Searching for Solace
by Lass Cherrie
Summary: ON HIATUS / Australia, 2007. OCs. / What do you do when there's a full-scale invasion and your world is turned upside down, and the only help you can rely on is on the opposite side of the globe? The only thing you can. You run. And fight. And search - for solace.
1. Prologue

**July 23, 2010.**

**A/N: Here it is, Solacers. The long-awaited and much-needed prologue to the story :)**

**Finally, the story's going to start like it was supposed to! :D**

**Enjoy! Please review :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew.**

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**Searching for Solace**

**- PROLOGUE -**

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**April 8, 2007 – 22:48**

The night was quiet. A cool wind blew through the small camp, tossing a few stray sparks from the fire into the air. The dead, curled gum leaves crackled and popped as the flames licked the few scraps of foliage they'd managed to scrape together in a messy heap in the middle of the field. Several lonely crickets chirped quietly. The gumtrees sighed in the breeze.

The tension around the fire was palpable. Six teenagers were silent with exhaustion, most gazing tiredly into the glowing coals as they reached their icy fingers towards the inviting warmth of the flames. Days under the blazing Australian sun were unbearably hot, but at night the temperature dropped sharply. There was little cloud coverage; the stars were bright silver in the clear velvet sky.

Across the fire, Mackenzie lay with her head in Morgan's lap, her eyes cast heavenward, blinking sleepily. Daniel, his thumbs rubbing together in a slow routine, watched Morgan running her fingers absently through the other girl's hair out of the corner of his eye. His own fingers twitched reflexively. He glanced away.

Amy was gnawing anxiously on one thumbnail, her eyes flicking warily over the horizon every few seconds. He followed her tense gaze. Were they out there, watching and waiting, when they were finally taking a break from running? Were they assembling even now, as he was thinking, creeping silently towards them, preparing for attack? Tension clenched his stomach muscles. Hatred bubbled in his gut. He exhaled heavily through his nose, dropping his head into his hands.

The grass rustled as Nick moved, reaching for a nearby stick to doodle in the ashes piled around the base of the fire. His eyes were grim as he traced patterns silently, the reflection of the flames dancing languidly in the piercings marking his face. He cleared his throat quietly, not looking up. They rarely spoke at night. They were always too exhausted from being chased, from fighting.

Footsteps hurried towards them, crashing through the field. Daniel tensed, though he knew who was coming. He spotted the slight, black form several hundred metres away, moving quickly. A call pierced the night, echoing back to the camp.

"Move!"

Daniel was already getting up. At the same time she'd called, he'd spotted the shadows shifting in the distance. All attention had snapped towards her voice. Alarm pulsed through the group.

"Get up," Daniel grunted sharply. How many were there? Ten? Twenty? Fifty? He narrowed his eyes, trying to discern their numbers. It was impossible in the dark. He didn't like it one bit; he hated their vulnerability.

Emma was running now, flying across the ground with skimming footsteps. She exploded into distant view, her blonde mane wild, untameable and windswept, her eyes ablaze. Her expression was fierce as ever.

And they were right behind her.

Huge, lumbering beasts, demented shadows with awful, mutated limbs and merciless hunger in their eyes. Amy whimpered. Mackenzie groaned weakly. Morgan swore under her breath. It was possible the creatures had been rabbits at one point. Now they barely resembled their pre-Chimera forms. They bounded towards the group, closing in, Daniel realised, in an ambush. He growled angrily and thrust his hand into his pocket, yanking out his pendant violently.

"Transform!" Emma shrieked, bursting onsite, already in Mew form. "What the fuck is wrong with all of you?" Realising their presence had been detected, the Chimera let loose spine-chilling cries as they advanced, gaining ground and closing the distance. They had to move fast. Their clock was quickly running out of time.

Within second, it was pandemonium, panic running thick like a current of electricity. White light exploded in sporadic bursts, as the teenagers transformed one by one. The Chimera were upon them now, the rabbits accompanied by several enormous caterpillar-like creatures with thick, fuzzy skin. Daniel's neck bristled as one screeched and reared on several of its hind legs.

"What the fuck is that?" Morgan cried in dismay.

Daniel already knew. Fear stabbed frantically at his stomach.

"Move, move, _move_!" Emma screamed, still pounding toward them. "GET OUT OF HERE!"

With another threatening screech, the caterpillar convulsed once then flicked its oversized head forwards, spitting a huge, blazing fireball in their direction. Amy screamed. They all threw themselves aside. Daniel threw his hands over his head, wincing as the heat rippled overhead, the air sizzling in its wake, the tips of the dried grass instantly catching alight. He scrabbled in the sudden inferno, moving as fast as he could across the ground and trying to gain his feet.

Amy was still screaming – through from pain or fear he could no longer tell. The spitfire shot off another fireball. A nearby gumtree exploded into flame with an earth-trembling crack. Their shouts of shock and horror were drowned in the roar of the fires now spreading with frightening speed. Thick, pungent smoke billowed into the air. The sky glowed orange.

"Max? Max!" Morgan's voice was frantic, anguished. Nearby. Daniel lurched towards her voice. She shrieked, the sound cut short with a sickening thud. One of the mutant rabbits howled fiercely, alarmingly close. Daniel's head snapped back as he looked up, vaguely making out its huge form looming practically overhead. Out of nowhere, a giant paw smashed into the ground, the unnaturally sharp, knife-like claws leaving craters in the earth, merely metres from where he stood.

Morgan was sobbing. "Max!"

Another awful scream of torturous pain was ripped from someone's throat; was it Amy or Nick? He couldn't tell. Daniel's stomach heaved as he stumbled through the blistering smoke, his eyes stinging and watering. It burned in his throat; he choked and pitched forward, somehow managing to narrowly miss a second rabbit-paw attack. The ground was churned up mere inches behind his heel. He kept moving, army-crawling through the grass. He had no idea which direction was which anymore.

He couldn't hear Morgan. He couldn't hear anybody. Only the roar of the bushfire and the war cries of the monsters. Thankfully, the fire and smoke seemed to hinder their tracking abilities; it didn't look like they could detect him underneath the smoke. Daniel crawled on, stabbing his palms on dry branches and slicing his fingers on the sharp blades of dead grass. He felt no pain; adrenaline thudded in his heart and ears, driving him on like a robot.

He heard the rustling right beside him just a little too late and rolled in the opposite direction, summoning his axe at the same time. He propped up fiercely, raising to strike–

"Don't!"

Max's voice was weak but terrified. Daniel instantly dropped the axe – it vaporised into the air – and moved with astonishing speed, forcing the long grass aside until she came into view, lying exhaustedly in the middle of a half-crawl, half-drag. He moved to her side.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded feebly. A rabbit screeched, too close for comfort. Another paw came down somewhere nearby. The ground rumbled. Without hesitating, Daniel pulled himself into a crouch and scooped up Mackenzie's frail body. She didn't protest but curled closer to him, clutching at his shirt with trembling fingers. He could feel her heart beating frantically in her chest. Keeping a firm hold on her, he crashed through the grass, heading in no particular direction, merely _away. _He had no idea where anyone else was; he could only worry about himself and Max now.

The fire was unbearable. And it was everywhere, pressing in from all sides. His vision was blurring, his head spinning with what he was sure was the onset of asphyxiation, but he struggled on. He'd be damned if he went down at the feet of one of those alien beasts. He clenched his teeth furiously and forced his legs, which suddenly seemed clumsy and detached from his control, through the grass. And then suddenly, they were at the dilapidated fence, and he could see everything.

Fire was spreading into the distance, blazing wildly from field to field so that the horizon was a line of flickering, glowing red, rearing like horses into the night sky. The roar of the flames was deafening. Smoke smudged the heavens brown-black, obscured the stars. The Chimera loomed out of the flames like demons from the pits of hell, fire still exploding from the mouths of the spitfires.

A faint, defeated wailing set his teeth on edge and cringed down his spine. He searched the inferno for the source. Several of the rabbits seemed to be congregated, their attention focused on something. Ice hit his stomach, causing it to cramp painfully. One of them had fallen.

Then, out of nowhere, Emma exploded, a figure of jet black against the burning red, swords drawn and gleaming like glorious liquid silver in the flames, her face twisted with rage driven by insanity and bloodlust. She snarled ferociously, raising the swords, her mouth setting into a hard line, telltale of the fate she had accepted. The wailing intensified. So did the intensity in her eyes. And Daniel realised this could well be the last time he would ever see her alive.

"HAPPY FUCKING EASTER, MOTHERFUCKERS!" Emma screamed wildly, and charged into the fire.

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**A/N: Read on to learn their story :)**

**I hope this is an appropriate glimpse into the future, some solid foreshadowing without any spoilers! ;P**

**Reviews are love.**

**Until the next update,**

**Cherrie x**


	2. One

**March 24, 2010.**

**A/N: Greetings, fictioners! :D**

**I know it's been a ridiculously long time since I wrote anything. I would apologise, except I haven't been off avoiding writing in my absence. Actually, I've spent the last few months writing a Minto-based fic that has grown into something freaking epic. And I promised myself when I started it that I wouldn't post it until it was finished. Since it isn't finished yet, it isn't posted XD**

**So, because I missed this site, I've decided to start posting stories again. This one I've been meaning to write for a while, because the idea was born a good few months ago. I resisted the urge to write it due to the aforementioned Minto-giant, but I'm writing it now, because I want to. Kapische? :)**

**Also: if you're wanting a fic that's a hybrid mixture of Tokyo Mew Mew and Australian culture, then you've come to the right place. **

**I'm trying to make this as unique as possible. I don't know how often it will be updated. Whenever I finish a chapter I suppose. I'm going to try to keep them about 4-5 pages in length, so I can update more frequently. And I'm intending on this being quite a short chapter fic. But knowing me, it'll probably grow into a beast XD**

**All I ask, is that if you do read this, please review it. Please.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew.**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- ONE -**

* * *

**2000**

* * *

**January**

"And a quick re-cap of tonight's headlines: bushfires in Canberra threaten more than one hundred properties as fire-fighters continue to battle the wild blaze, government opposition criticises the Howard Government's decision to implement GST later this year, Britney Spears' first official tour finally draws to a close in America–" channel ten newsreader Sandra Sulley paused and smiled for a moment "–And a so-called 'monster' rears its ugly head in Tokyo, Japan–"

"Sarah, turn it down!" Britney Spears' _You Drive Me Crazy _blasted from the closed door to her ten-year-old sister's bedroom. "I'm watching TV!"

She waited for a second, listening to hear if her sister would obey, her eyes fixed on the footage enlarged on the screen. From a helicopter hovering low between the skyscrapers, what looked like a mutant, oversized animal was terrorising the streets. Part-horrified and mostly-sceptical, she rolled her eyes and hauled herself up from the couch to storm down the hall.

The volume finally lowered when she pounded her fist against her sister's door, but by the time she got back to the lounge room, the short article had ended, and Sandra Sulley had moved on to Sports Tonight. Apparently the AFL pre-season was starting. Mackenzie dropped back down on the sticky couch and groaned audibly. The relentless summer heat made _everything_ sticky, and the standing fan in the corner wasn't doing much to help. She certainly wasn't feeling cooler yet.

Bored with news, she grabbed the remote and switched to the cartoons on ABC.

* * *

**June**

The bell rang, and Mackenzie sighed internally with relief. School today couldn't be any more boring. She had no idea how the government worked; all she knew was that the leader of Australia was the bald man named John Howard, and his competition was the big angry man named Kim Beazley. That, in the advertisements, liberal was blue and labor was red; which instinctively made her like liberal more, because she didn't really like the colour red. It was associated with anger and evil, and other generally bad things.

"I don't get what GST is," she admitted to her best friend Morgan as they squashed into the bag room between the two grade five portables to get their lunchboxes.

"Me neither," Morgan agreed. "I think it just makes things more expensive."

Mackenzie glanced at her jealously as she fished in her school bag. Morgan had always been smarter than her. It wasn't fair that she always knew what their teacher was talking about and Mackenzie didn't. It was clear she had at least some understanding of what Mrs. Weller had just been explaining to them.

"What do you wanna play today?" Morgan asked, as the two girls wandered outside. They stopped when they spotted Mrs. Matherson by the drinking taps, and quickly (and reluctantly) put on their floppy, wide-brimmed hats, pushing the toggles up under their chins. Mackenzie sat on one of the peeling benches and watched a bunch of grade fours playing Pokémon cards by the breezeway as she chewed her vegemite and cheese sandwich.

"We could play tiggy with everyone else," Morgan continued, sitting beside her. Mackenzie shook her head. She didn't really like tiggy, and she really didn't like Daniel Palmer, who she knew would be playing. He always called her names and threw things at her. She didn't know why, but the others often laughed. They never did it to Morgan.

"We could get some skipping ropes," Morgan suggested, swinging her legs.

"I don't want to skip today." Mackenzie knew she was being difficult, but she was in a bad mood.

"Well, what do you want to do, then?" Morgan asked, getting annoyed. Mackenzie was silent. To be honest, she hadn't really thought about what she felt like playing. Now Morgan was making her feel even more stupid than usual. She stared at her sister as she ran past, squealing with her grade four friends.

"We could be Mew Mews," Morgan suddenly said brightly. Mackenzie stared at her.

"What?"

"Mew Mews," Morgan repeated. "Did you watch _Cheez TV _today? They were in the news again, after _Dragonball Z_ finished."

"I hate _Dragonball Z_," Mackenzie grumbled childishly, and irrelevantly.

"I know," Morgan replied. "I didn't _really _watch it. Mum was making my lunch and made me change the channel so she could watch the news. Those girls were on TV again."

"They're not real," Mackenzie said. "It's stupid."

"I think they're real," Morgan argued. "They actually showed them fighting a monster this time."

Mackenzie shrugged. She was a stubborn girl, and if she didn't think it was real, then it wasn't real. It didn't matter what anyone said to her.

"I like the pink one," Morgan said, typically Morgan. She was such a girl. Everything in her room was bright pink, and fluffy. The only thing that was fluffy in Mackenzie's room was the bear she'd had since she was a baby. And her bedroom was plain white. Feeling inadequate again, because she didn't even know how many of these weird girls there were, let alone what colours they wore, Mackenzie pretended not to hear. It was the only way she knew how to deal with being Morgan's best friend.

"Did you know the blue one can actually _fly_?"

"Let's play with our _Beanie Kids_," Mackenzie said suddenly, loudly. Without looking at Morgan she got up and headed back towards the portables. Morgan would happily play with her – she always did. And, bless her, she might be the smartest girl in their grade, but she wouldn't have a clue why her best friend was in a bad mood. She was still young enough that she was naïve and innocent.

* * *

**September**

"Mac! You're missing it!"

Mackenzie put down her book (Paul Jennings and Morris Gleitzman's _Wicked_, number three) and hauled herself up from the carpet. The rest of her family was sitting out in front of the telly, watching the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games. They were making a big deal out of these Games because they were being held in Australia for the first time since the Melbourne Games in 1956. She only remembered that because her mum had told her ten minutes ago. Already she couldn't remember if it was '56 or '58. She didn't really care.

Her parents were sitting on the couch (her mum with a Coltees cordial, her dad with a can of VB). Sarah was lying on her stomach with her eyes glued to the screen. Mackenzie sat down and crossed her legs. On the TV, the lights in the arena were dimmed and made to have a rippling effect, as though everything was underwater. From the corner of the screen, a small girl with curly hair was pretending to swim; she was belted to one of those trapeze things, and was suspended high above the ground. Oversized fish 'swam' around her.

"Who's that?" Mackenzie asked.

"Nikky something," her mum replied. "She's very young – and so brave. Look how high up she is!"

Mackenzie was more interested in being jealous that Morgan was up in Sydney right now, staying with family. She was sitting somewhere in that crowd as they spoke, watching it all live. She'd been so excited about it that Mackenzie had gotten sick of hearing about the Games. It was all anyone wanted to talk about, and she had no interest in discussing it.

In fact, she wished she hadn't thought about Morgan, because now she didn't feel like watching any more of the ceremony. She got up again.

"I'll be back," she promised, and walked out. Unfortunately, the rest of the house offered little entertainment. She wasn't in the mood for her book anymore, and the toys in her room were boring without Sarah to play with. Their dog, Rusty, a good-natured blue heeler, was lounging in the sun outside, snapping lazily at an occasional bug. She was left with no choice but the beat up old TV in the laundry, which was about the size of a matchbox.

She switched it on and pressed the buttons near the volume dial, flicking around until she found something better than political debates or the Olympic ceremony. Something bright and colourful was happening on channel seven, so she settled for that and made herself comfortable on the almost-broken old stool in the corner, resting her elbows on the ironing board.

She'd thought it was a kids' show, but quickly realised it was a news article featuring colourfully-dressed people. She was sulking about the letdown this was when she caught the headline in the corner: Tokyo's Teen Heroines. It suddenly clicked that these were those girls Morgan was so obsessed with. Instead of changing the channel in search of cartoons, she kept watching.

"The appearance of the oversized animals and the appearance of the girls seem to be linked," the newsreader was saying. "Although the reason of existence of the heroines has yet to be confirmed, there is evidence to suggest that the girls are an experiment. Close examination of the heroines' costumes has revealed animalistic traits like ears and tails, leaving scientists guessing about the authenticity; the notion of a possible scam has been raised multiple times. But the identities of these Japanese heroes remain a mystery." She paused for a moment to look gravely into the camera. "Several names have surfaced as being possibly linked to the experiment, with the most frequent ties being made to a Dr. Shirogane, who perished in a house fire in 1995. Investigations continue at the site of his destroyed laboratory–"

"Mac?" Sarah's voice came from the door. Mackenzie jumped and instinctively switched the TV off; a habit of feeling permanently guilty. Sarah blinked at her, confused. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Mackenzie replied shortly. "Why are you following me?"

"Mum wanted to know where you were…"

"Well I'm still in the house!" Mackenzie snapped. Sometimes she just got frustrated that she could never really be alone. Someone always had to know where she was, like they didn't trust that she could sit by herself and not cause trouble. Like she _always_ had to have parental supervision.

"Are you coming?" Sarah asked, not really knowing what else to say. Mackenzie looked at her for a moment, wondering what it would be like if she was an only child. She wouldn't have any little sisters to tail her everywhere like spies, to keep her in check.

A minute later, she was back in the lounge room, her eyes on the screen, her mind on the footage of those colourful girls in Japan. Little did she know, it would be the last she saw or heard of them for a long time.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**the Howard Government - **John Howard was the Australian Prime Minister for so long; he was in power before I was born! (I think) He went out of power in 2007, beaten by current Prime Minster Kevin Rudd.

**AFL - **the Australian Football League. Consists of 16 teams of 22 players who move an oval-shaped football up an oval-field, aiming to kick a 'goal' (worth 6 points) or a point. Goals have four posts; two tall posts flanked by shorter posts. A goal is scored by kicking between the tall posts. Players can handball or kick the ball to each other, and have to bounce it when running. There are lots of ways to get penalties, and the game is generally rough. Basic gist of the game. BEST. SPORT. EVAR!

**ABC** - Australian Broadcasting Corporation. A channel that shows mostly Australian kid TV shows, educational programmes, and documentaries. Very boring during the middle of the day.

**Drinking taps** - Drinking fountains/faucets.

**Vegemite** - If you Americans don't know what Vegemite is, at least, then you're terrible people XD Sandwich spread that is uniquely Australian; very salty, and dark-brown/black in colour. Most tourists can't stomach it XD The stuff is amazing :3

**Tiggy** - Aussie name for 'tag'; ie: one person is 'it' and chases everyone else around until they tag someone else, at which point the tagged person becomes 'it', and the game continues. In Victoria it's called 'tiggy', in New South Wales it's called 'tips'. Weirdos.

**Cheez TV** - A channel ten program that used to run every weekday from 7:00 to 8:30am. It showed popular anime series' like _Digimon_, _Dragonball Z_, _Zoids_ and _Pokemon_. It stopped airing in 2004, when it became Toasted TV, which shows a mixture of cartoons, but less anime :( These days, _Bratz_, _Bakugan Battle Brawlers_, _Yugioh GX_, and _Robot Chicken_ are shown :/ Aussie kids used to get up early to watch it before school XD

**Mum** - 'Mam' in England, 'Mom' in America. We're special, too :)

**Beanie Kids** - I've also heard them called 'Beanie Babies'... Stuffed bears that came in a colossal range of designs. Lots of people liked to collect them.

**Paul Jennings** - a popular/famous Australian author.

**Morris Gleitzman** - as above.

**'Wicked'** - An excellent, very Australian series of books aimed at older kids, with Aussie heroines that face all sorts of weird stuff and creepy monsters. Another series co-authored by Jennings and Gleitzman is '**Deadly!**', which they are currently airing on Saturday arvo TV in cartoon-form :)

**Telly** - Like the Poms, we call our TVs 'tellies'.

**Coltees cordial **- A big brand of cordial. Personally, I don't like their products much :/ A big part of an Aussie kid's childhood.

**VB** - Victoria Bitter. An age-old uniquely Victorian beer :) Comes in a **stubby**: a short, fat glass bottle.

**Blue heeler **- a breed of dog used in the police force. The breed is so Australian, they named a police TV show in the '90s after it. It was called '**Blue Heelers**', and was very unnecessarily dramatic, like all action dramas are.

**TV channels** - there are five free-to-air channels in Australia: channel two (ABC), channel seven (7), channel nine (Nine Network), channel ten (Ten), and channel 28 (SBS). Channel ten (I think) is also called 'Win' in rural Victoria... I've never understood why they call it something different out there.

Oh, BTW: **Arvo** - Afternoon XD

**A/N: Holy crap, there's an epic amount of Aussie culture in the first chapter O_O**

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**A/N: Yes, the chapter is a little uneventful. Trust me, it's just serious set up right now.**

**All the big stuff will happen very fast, and then it'll stay fast XD**

**Until the next update!**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	3. Two

**March 26, 2010.**

**A/N: I don't know why, but SS didn't show up at all in the TMM archive :( Weird. Anyway, If you read/are reading this, drop us a line and let me know? I'll keep updating regardless, just because, but it'd be nice to have at least a little feedback.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- TWO -**

* * *

**2003**

* * *

**April**

"Max, where a-a-are you?"

Mackenzie froze, the pen suddenly still between her fingers. That sing-song voice could only belong to one person, and she'd been sing-songing her name for years now. The door to her bedroom burst open and Morgan bounced in, beaming.

"Hi!"

"You cut your hair!" Mackenzie blurted, eyes huge. Morgan grinned and ran her fingers through her glossy chocolate locks. Until recently, her hair flowed down her back in lovely thick curls. Now it was short enough that it brushed her chin. She only just managed to tuck it behind her ears.

"Why?" Mackenzie wailed, horrified. She'd always been envious of Morgan's beautiful hair. Morgan shrugged and threw herself down on Mackenzie's unmade bed.

"Time for a change," she said. "It looks French and cute now. And Tom said it looks hot."

She pulled a face and loosened the tie at her neck, removing her fitted navy blazer with an exaggerated groan. "That stupid thing is so uncomfortable."

Mackenzie quietly thought to herself that she'd gladly trade the loose plaid dress of her public high school for the itchy, uncomfortable blazer of Morgan's private school. She'd have given anything to have gone to a private school when she'd graduated from primary school, but her family couldn't afford the twelve thousand dollars a year to send her there. While Morgan complained about boring chemistry classes in state-of-the-art facilities, Mackenzie was slaving through year eight in the slums of the local public school.

"You cut your hair for a boy?" Mackenzie demanded. Morgan smiled devilishly, and a sense of foreboding washed over Mackenzie. She'd seen that smile before. It had accompanied breaking into the sports shed in grade three and stealing the skipping rope with the green handles, cutting Sarah's _Barbie_'s hair in grade four because she was annoying them, whacking all the heads off cranky Mrs. Frederick's agapanthus bushes in the spring of grade six when she'd yelled at them for making too much noise, and deliberately puncturing all of Morgan's brother's footballs last year because he kept accidentally hitting her bedroom window when he practised his torpedo.

"We're going out now," Morgan announced, and Mackenzie's stomach dropped. She'd imagined evil scheming and plots of vengeance, but this was so much worse. Her best friend had a _boyfriend_? It was impossible. She'd never shared Morgan with anyone! It had been hard enough being separated when they went to high school, but now Morgan wouldn't call her anymore, because she'd be calling a boy instead. It was a terrifying thought.

Plus, it was yet another blow to Mackenzie's ego, which simply came from being best friends with someone who was altogether better than her. It was only natural that Morgan would find a boyfriend first – boys had always been interested in her; even when she was young they'd _all_ wanted to play with _her _– but a small part of Mackenzie had always been foolishly hopeful that just once, it would be her, not Morgan, who got lucky. Who was popular, and chosen, and smart, and beautiful…

"What?" Morgan asked, her smile fading. Mackenzie shook her head and plastered a fake smile across her face.

"Nothing," she assured her. "I'm just surprised."

"You should be happy for me," Morgan replied, frowning. "I've liked Tom for ages."

"A month isn't ages, Morgs," Mackenzie replied. A year and three months is ages, she added silently, which was exactly how long she'd liked Dale Freeman for. She didn't even know what she liked about him; he wasn't particularly special. But whenever he walked in her stomach went funny.

"It's not in comparison to your everlasting crush," Morgan agreed, laughing. Mackenzie blushed. "Just ask him out. No-one will care."

Actually, everyone would, which was exactly why she wouldn't do it. That and she just didn't have the courage. The idea of confessing her feelings was absolutely mortifying.

"You need to get a TV in here," Morgan commented, rolling onto her back and staring up at the roof. "And you still have that bloody _Backstreet Boys_ poster up! I'm taking it down."

"No!" Mackenzie cried. Morgan stared at her incredulously, her fingers paused at the corner of the glossy picture.

"Leave it there," Mackenzie said, looking away shamefacedly. It wasn't that she still liked the _Backstreet Boys _– in fact, she hadn't listened to their old CD in years. But it was _her _poster, and _her_ bedroom, and _she'd_ take the poster down when _she_ felt like it herself. She'd always been particular about people making decisions for her; it really irritated her. What – did they think she couldn't think for herself?

"Whatever." Morgan let it drop, and flopped back down on the bed. "What are you even doing in here?"

"Maths homework," Mackenzie replied, lifting up the book so she could see.

Morgan pulled a face. "It's Friday night. We should do something. No-one does homework on a Friday night."

Mackenzie's heart sank. And now Morgan would try to get her to go out and party. It was the same routine every week. Didn't Morgan get bored of trying to make her sociable? Mackenzie licked her lips and pushed her glasses up her nose.

"I don't feel like it," she said. "I think I'll just stay home."

"Nah, come on," Morgan said, getting up and pulling open her wardrobe. "You always stay home. You're coming out tonight."

"Morgs, I'm really not in the mood."

"We'll just go bowling or something. Or a friend of mine is having a few people around to watch movies. We could have a huge group sleepover," Morgan said, pulling out a few hangers, even though she already knew the entire contents of Mackenzie's closet back to front.

"I don't think so. Thanks though."

Morgan sighed and dropped the hem of the single skirt Mackenzie owned, so it fell back into the wardrobe. "Max, you never leave this room."

"Yes I do," Mackenzie argued. "I have to – how else would I miraculously be at school all the time?"

"That's not what I mean," Morgan replied, shooting her a look that saw straight through her. Mackenzie looked away. Sometimes it was disconcerting being friends with someone who knew you almost better than you knew yourself.

"I like my space," Mackenzie offered. "I don't like loud music and big crowds. And drinking alcohol until I can't walk straight is just not something I consider fun."

Morgan sighed heavily, making no effort to disguise her disappointment, which of course only made Mackenzie feel even worse about herself.

"You can't stay locked up in here forever," Morgan said. "You have to get out at some point."

"Can't we just stay here and watch _Idol_, like normal?" Mackenzie begged. Morgan shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet her eyes for a moment.

"Actually, I told Tom that if I wasn't going out with you, I'd see him tonight."

"Oh."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

"You're not mad, are you?" Morgan asked. Mackenzie knew that it didn't matter even if she was. Morgan was so used to things going her way that, these days, she was only considerate because she'd always been taught to be. She was playing the good friend, not being the good friend.

"No. Why would I be?"

Morgan smiled. "I know, but I was just making sure."

"Of course not. I don't mind if you spend time with your new boyfriend. That would just be selfish."

Morgan pulled her into a customary hug and picked up her blazer, balling it up in her hands. "I told Tom I'd meet him at six, so I'd better go. I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Okay," Mackenzie agreed, feeling absolutely miserable and wishing she could just rot away and die. Morgan smiled, dark eyes sparkling, and bounced out again with a "Bye!", leaving Mackenzie to the silence, with only her school books for company. Fighting the strongest urge to cry, Mackenzie abandoned her maths homework and escaped her suddenly suffocating bedroom to the empty lounge room. Her parents were both at work, and Sarah was at netball training. No-one would be home for another hour. And Rusty was never very good company.

Mackenzie threw herself down on a battered couch and flicked the telly on, just in time to catch the end of _The Bold and the Beautiful, _a show she'd always loved to watch but had never admitted to anyone. She liked the drama and the exaggeration, how everything was always perfect and beautiful, and so very romantic. She read so many books for the same reasons.

A channel ten newsbreak played while she was waiting for a re-run episode of _The Simpsons _to start. Sandra Sulley, with a slightly different hairdo, appeared, blonde and smiling as always.

"Good evening and welcome to _Ten News_. In tonight's headlines: A North Korean cargo ship stormed by Special Operations Troops is found to be carrying more than one hundred and twenty-five kilograms of heroin, a family of five narrowly escapes being crushed by a train in Ringwood, and hundreds of protestors against the Iraq war continue to flood streets across Australia. Plus, all the glitz and glamour from the ARIA Awards–" Sandra smiles "–But first, breakthrough at last for the mystery that was Japan's Tokyo Mew Mew. Years after the disappearance of the five teenage girls that were apparently half-human and half-animal, a Japanese scientist has come forward with long-awaited information about the bizarre heroines."

Mackenzie stiffened in her seat. It had been years since all of that weird stuff – she hadn't even thought about it since. It had all been declared a hoax, that the girls were just actors in the end. The screen flicked from the channel ten studios to a press conference somewhere in Japan. A tall, blonde-haired man stood behind a lectern surrounded by journalists with enormous microphones, speaking rapidly in an Asian tongue.

"For whatever reason those girls were created," a translator said clearly over the top, "they helped save our planet. We have evidence now to support the belief that the earth was facing invasion by a foreign species. It has been deduced that these girls – whoever and wherever they are now – protected our planet."

Mackenzie stared at the screen. Two pictures had been shown while the scientist was talking. The first was of a silhouetted figure at night. They were tall and slender, with long limbs, and, from what Mackenzie could tell, extremely long, pointed ears. The second was a candid of the five 'heroines' in their bright costumes, facing a hideous beast of some sort. The telly flicked back to Sandra.

"Dr. Shirogane is a professor at the University of Tokyo. More on that report in the late news," she said. "Moving on now to the North Korean freighter…"

At eleven o'clock that night, Mackenzie was sitting at her desk with the door wide open, listening keenly for the sounds that the news had started. She'd spent the last few hours wondering why the name Shirogane (which she had no idea how to pronounce) sounded so familiar, why it felt like she'd heard it before somewhere, while she tried to plough through the rest of her homework. At last, the familiar news jingle rang out, and she leaped up from her seat, bemused as to why she was so intrigued about the stupid Mew Mew report – especially since she'd never even believed in them.

Her parents paused mid-argument as she scuttled past, watching her in surprise. Sarah, who was sitting at the kitchen table in her netball skirt and a jumper, looked up from her latest edition of _Girlfriend M__agazine_ and wondered if she was seeing things. Mackenzie pretended her behaviour was perfectly normal and made herself comfortable on the couch.

"… and wherever they are now – protected our planet," the blond man was finishing, for the second time that day. However, instead of returning to Sandra Sulley, the footage continued rolling. He looked up with clear blue eyes, his expression serious. "After extensive research we have learned that the intergalactic species is known as the Cyniclons, and that they have access to abundant resources on their home planet. Having conducted studies over the recent few years, we believe we now have strong reason to suspect that there is an imminent threat of a possible second invasion."

A chart popped up on the screen. Mackenzie had absolutely no idea what it meant, and was more interested in what the oddly Western-looking Japanese man had to say. From where she sat, it sounded like he was worried about the world being invaded. But aliens didn't exist – everyone knew that. And, in the ridiculously tiny chance that they did, they wouldn't ever have any interest in the earth.

To Mackenzie's disappointment, the screen returned to the studios. Sandra Sulley smiled for a moment. "Dr. Shirogane is currently under questioning about his possible involvement with Tokyo Mew Mew. And now to the ARIAs! A night of music, red carpets, and glamorous gowns…"

Sarah was singing the _Black Eyed Peas'_ '_Where is the Love'? _in her very tone-deaf manner when Mackenzie walked back through. She unplugged one earphone from her ear and said, "You alright?"

Mackenzie paused and looked at her, sitting there with her blonde highlights and her glossed-up lips, turning the pages of a trashy gossip-filled magazine with carefully manicured fingers and marvelled at just how desperate for popularity thirteen-year-old Sarah was. And at how depressingly different they were, because she'd actually managed to achieve it.

"Yep," she replied tonelessly. And returned to her bedroom.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Torpedo** - Not the torpedo that pops to mind. In Australia, a 'torpedo' is a type of AFL kick, generally huge and powerful. There are drop-punts, too, but sadly, my AFL knowledge doesn't extend that far anymore. I used to be alarmingly into footy when I was younger.

**'Bloody'** - in Aussie speech, 'bloody' is used to mean many things. Generally, it exaggerates the notion that something is not good. Ie, in surprise: Bloody hell!, in anger: That bloody dog!, in frustration: I can't work out this bloody answer! A lot of middle-aged or older Australian mean use it a heck of a lot. It's pronounced: Bluddy.

**Maths** - the Americans call it Math. We added an 'S'. I don't know why. Probably because it's short for 'mathematic**S**'.

**Nah** - no. In fact, we don't actually say 'no'. XD

**Idol** - Every country has one. Ours is 'Australian Idol' (no duh), but 'Idol' for short :)

**The ARIA Awards** - the Australian Record Industry Association. A big music awards night, like the Academy Awards of music in Australia... sort of.

**Girlfriend Magazine** - a hugely popular teen magazine for Aussie girls. And no, I didn't start reading it this year at age 19 (nearly 20). Why-ever would you think such a thing? XD'

**A/N: BTW, the North Korean freighter was an actual news item from 2003; I did my research XD All events mentioned in the first few chapters are actual events that took place :)**

* * *

**A/N: Review? :)**

**Until the next update.**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	4. Three

**March 28, 2010.**

**A/N: Hullo!**

**I don't know why, but my Document Uploader is being weird. It won't let me centre any text :( Oh well, I'll just have to do the best I can with what I've got XD**

**Anyway, big huge thanks to **Kyasarin Freakload**, who I never expected to hear from unless it had something to do with 'Mew Academy' XD Thanks so much for reviewing and supporting me! It really means a lot; more than you know. **

**So, here's the next chapter! From here, things get faster :) Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

**Searching for Solace**

**- THREE -**

* * *

**2006**

* * *

**August**

"Where're you going?" Morgan asked, surprised and a little irritable. "Where could you _possibly_ have to go on a Sunday night?"

Gee, thanks, Morgs, Mackenzie thought dryly as she switched the phone from one shoulder to the other. She pinched the hair elastic around her wrist between her teeth and yanked it over her hand.

"I have tutoring on Sunday night, remember?" she replied, throwing her mousey hair back in a messy ponytail. It was long and unruly; it hadn't seen the hairdresser's in many moons. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had layers or a fringe.

"You tutor?" Morgan asked in surprise. Mackenzie glared at the phone. Trust Morgan to have no idea, even though she actually remembered having this conversation already.

"No, Morgs. I _get _tutored."

"For what? You're smart – as if you need tutoring!" Morgan scoffed. Mackenzie picked up her almost-falling-apart Country Road bag and packed her books into it.

"Methods," she said. "I've failed the last few tests, so I'm getting tutored before VCE starts."

"Shit, that sucks," Morgan commented. She was silent while Mackenzie threw things around for a moment. "You're late, aren't you?"

"Not really," Mackenzie lied. She was the most disorganised person on the planet, coupled with the most forgetful, so running late was a frequent habit of hers. Morgan laughed at the other end of the line.

"Okay, well, I'll go, so you can run around like a crazy chicken without a head, and you call me tomorrow when you've finished school, okay?"

"Alright," Mackenzie agreed, grabbing her glasses case from the bed-head. "Have fun at work."

"I won't. Have fun at tutoring."

"I won't."

"Bye."

"See ya."

Mackenzie threw the cordless phone at her bed and winced when it missed. Oh well; she didn't have time to worry about whether it was still alive. She grabbed her bag, threw on some Keds, and pulled her door shut, donning her glasses as she headed into the lounge room.

"Dad, are you ready?"

"Coming, floss," he called. "Get the keys and start her up."

Mackenzie was fishing around in the glass bowl of keys in the tiny front hall, and searching around for the black and yellow L plates when her mobile message tone rang out. She dug it out of her pocket.

4GOT 2 TELL U. CHECK YOUTUBE. MORE MEW MEW STUFF.

She stared at Morgan's message and made the split-second decision to dart back to her room. Her dinosaur computer had – thankfully – been left on, and it loaded up _Google_'s search engine in a matter of a few long seconds. Mackenzie chewed her lip impatiently as it struggled to open _Youtube_'s page, glancing nervously at the clock sitting on the shelf. Time was ticking by…

"Mac!" her father called. "What are you doing?"

"Two seconds!" she bellowed back. Come on, come on, come on, she begged, and was about to give up and go when at last the page opened. And there it was, right in the middle of 'popular recent uploads': "Dr. Shirogane - Alien Alert!"

She clicked on it and began the second phase of gruelling waiting. Finally, it had loaded and was buffering. Too impatient to let it completely buffer, she hit play, and watched as the same blonde-haired, blue-eyed man appeared on the screen. It wasn't the best quality footage, but it was footage nonetheless. He spoke rapid, anxious Japanese; she had to drink in the subtitles flashing across the bottom.

"To all out there who are watching this, I urge you not to take this lightly. The politicians and intellects have disregarded our warnings. They don't believe us, and they're going to try and convince you, too. We are not lying. I'm sending you this message to warn you all that we _will _witness a full-scale invasion, and we _will _witness it soon. We can't tell you when, exactly, but our enemies are coming, and we urge you to be prepared. When it happens, it will be ugly. But we will do our utmost to protect our world and its people. When the time comes, there will be help, and it will be available. Our primary focus now is to set up as many safe-houses as possible. We ask you to trust us, not ridicule us, because when the time comes, you will want to be with us."

The video ended. Mackenzie stared at the screen for a moment. Was this guy for real? This was exactly the kind of thing she'd never believed in. Things like this just didn't happen. Her instinctive response was to close the page and dismiss the whole thing. After all, these scientists were so wrapped up in their crazy work that they'd probably all gone nutty. Having said that, there was a sincerity in his expression that had her questioning everything. Something inside her just wasn't sitting right. She couldn't shake the nasty feeling in her stomach.

"MAC!" her father yelled.

"Coming!" She got up, deciding to think about it all again later, and dashed for the door.

* * *

**November 20**

Mackenzie was struggling. It was hot – summer was just starting – and she was sitting in the middle of her Maths Methods end of year exam. And she couldn't work out the answer. She chewed her lip angrily, frustrated with herself. Unbelievable. She'd had months of tutoring, and she still couldn't get it. Just how much could she _fail _at life?

She sighed huffily and looked up for a momentary break, and immediately caught bloody Daniel Palmer's eye. He grinned nastily at her and she quickly looked away again. Still causing her hell whenever he could, just like when they were kids. It seemed to be his sole purpose in life. God, she hated him.

The scratching of pens on paper was distracting, as was the abnormally loud ticking of the big round clock up the front. Mr. Gallespi, her maths teacher, was standing by a whiteboard with a marker, crossing off times so they knew how much time they had left, and keeping a watchful eye out for cheating.

Mackenzie stretched her feet under the table, wishing that the stupid exam could just be over already. She didn't think she could do any worse on it. She'd probably already failed epically. Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly, really) only about half of her maths class had turned up for the exam. They were probably off doing better things with their time; playing X-box or getting high. Or both.

That's when she got sleepy. Really sleepy. As in, the kind of sleepiness you can't fight, and she found her eyelids struggling to stay open. She had to _fight _to keep them open; they were suddenly heavier than lead. Her brain went foggy, and she struggled to form comprehensible thoughts in her head. She was so tired she couldn't even think straight. The pen slipped from her fingers; she rested her head in her hands. And then she was being pulled – something was tugging at her consciousness. Sleep, perhaps. But she felt the moment where she relaxed and let go like a solid, clear click, and then she was free-falling lazily in the blackness.

And as she fell, something rushed upwards toward her; something that glowed brilliant white and hurt the eyes of her unconsciousness. They rushed together like magnets. They were going to collide; would it hurt? She didn't even have time to think about it. There was a phenomenal explosion of iridescent white light as the two forms collided and merged. Warmth washed through her, and whatever it was seeped underneath her skin and melded into her genetics, adapting easily to her configuration, becoming _part of her_. She didn't know how she knew; it was just something she had an understanding of, without even knowing what was happening. And then–

"Richards. Richards!"

Mackenzie's eyes flew open. She lifted her head from her arms, which were folded comfortably over her desk. What? She'd been _sleeping_? In the middle of her exam?!

"Are you feeling alright?" Mr. Gallespi asked, standing over her and frowning with concern. "Do you need to see the nurse?"

Mackenzie flushed hotly with extreme embarrassment. It seemed the exam had been put on hold. Everyone was staring at her. She squirmed in her seat.

"I'm fine. Sorry. I… uh…"

"Face the front, everyone," Mr. Gallespi barked. "Mackenzie, you can resit later in the week. I strongly suggest you see a doctor, get a medical certificate for the day and get some proper rest. Come and see me tomorrow."

He stared relentlessly at Mackenzie, clearly leaving no room for argument, until she caved and started packing away her things. She didn't want to resit – she was feeling perfectly fine now! Although, she reasoned, she probably wouldn't be able to focus for the rest of it. Her head was elsewhere. She had no idea why she'd fallen asleep like that; it didn't make any sense. She'd slept fine last night, and she wasn't iron deficient. It just didn't have a logical explanation.

Ignoring the surreptitious glances from all directions as she collected her things, Mackenzie stalked to the doors and walked out into the afternoon.

* * *

**November 27**

"No, Max, I haven't mysteriously fallen asleep in class yet." Morgan's voice was tired and irritated. "Seriously, just get over it. Weird shit happens all the time all over the world. You were probably just exhausted from studying so much."

Mackenzie listened unhappily. As much as she wanted to believe her best friend, since Morgan turned out to be correct more often than not, there was something about last week that just wasn't sitting right. She just had this _feeling_. There was something to it. Something significant. Something that was arguing that she _didn't_ fall asleep in the middle of an important exam for absolutely no reason.

"Other people have," Mackenzie replied stubbornly. "I've been paying close attention lately. A few days ago a girl fell asleep in the middle of her Italian exam. And on Monday, _three_ people fell asleep in assembly. Yesterday, bloody Daniel Palmer slept in History. And – this is the weird one – someone fell asleep in the middle of PE. PE, Morgs!"

"Okay, I get it," Morgan replied shortly. "It's weird. So what? The seasons are changing, the weather's getting warmer, which makes people sleepier because their metabolisms are slowing down, and it's exam time, which means people are studying hard."

"That'd make sense if it was _your _school," Mackenzie pointed out. "But it's mine. People don't study at my school. People don't even come to exams, let alone class."

"It's too weak an argument," Morgan said. "Do you have any logical evidence to prove you fell asleep for a specific reason?"

"Well… no…" Mackenzie admitted. She could practically hear Morgan pulling her superior face.

"And seriously, _Daniel Palmer_? He always sleeps in class, if he rocks up. Honestly, Max, just let it go. You're going to drive yourself crazy."

"Yeah, maybe." But Mackenzie still wasn't content. Clearly, talking to Morgan about it wasn't going to get her anywhere. Ah, crap, she thought, maybe her best friend was right. In fact, she was _probably _right. It didn't even make sense why she was making such a big deal about it, let alone the actual incident itself. She made the executive decision right then and there to just stop thinking about it.

"I can't talk for much longer," Morgan said. "I'm going out with Blake tonight."

Blake was the boyfriend of the convenient moment. She hadn't been without one since her very first – Tom Crawford – in year eight. Mackenzie rolled her eyes and smiled to herself, shaking her head only because she knew Morgan couldn't see her doing it.

"Fine," she sighed. "Go and flirt the night away. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

Morgan laughed good-naturedly. "Yes you will. Do something productive with your night!"

Then she hung up, leaving Mackenzie with the thought that, in Morgan-language, 'productive' meant 'wild, drunken debauchery with a touch of boy', which would most likely involve the sacrifice of a few billion brain cells, or her virginity. Something Sarah might consider a good time. She instantly wrote off the idea, opting instead for some _Kraft Ezy-Mac _and a good dose of _Australia's Funniest Home Videos_. And then she might watch a chick flick. She wasn't sure, and she didn't mind, but whatever it was, it would have absolutely nothing to do with investigating weird sleeping patterns, or watching Dr. Shirogane's infrequent _Youtube_ updates.

Which, in hindsight, she realised she really should have been doing.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Country Road - **Country Road is a brand of clothing; pretty sure you guys have it...? Pretty much every single public school girl has a Country Road back in some colour or other. It's like a big duffel bag. I don't know why they're 'cool'. I never had one - I was a private school student XD

**Maths Methods** - the second highest level of mathematics that students can take in their last two years of high school. I took it in year 11 and failed epically.

**VCE** - Victorian Certificate of Education. Each student aims to pass their VCE when they finish school; without it, it's near impossible to get into uni, an apprenticeship, or a job offer. To pass VCE you need to take six year 12 subjects altogether. Their six individual marks (highest possible is 50, average is 30) averaged is your ENTER score. Your ENTER is one mark that all the universities look at when considering your application. The highest possible ENTER is 99.98, with intellects getting scores in the 90s, smart kids getting scores in the 80s, good scores being in the 70s, okay in the 60s, and not so good in the 50s. Anything below is shameful XD (I got a score of 87.6, for those who are interested :3)

**Keds **- a style of casual shoe (slip-on) that lots of teenagers wear. I personally have never owned any XD

**L-plates/P-plates** - In Australia, you can get your learner's permit for driving when you turn 16. (15 and 9 months, or something...) In Victoria, the little square plastic plate you stick on your back window and front window is yellow with a black L in the middle. When you turn 18 you can take your driving test. You have to have logged 120 hours of practised driving in all sorts of conditions, or you aren't even allowed to sit the test. If you pass, you stick red plates with white 'P's on your windows. You have your P-plates for three years altogether; one year on red plates (when you're only allowed to drive one passenger), and two on green (green squares, white letters), when you can take a full car of passengers. Basically, in Australia, it takes a damn long time to get your full license XD

**Year eight...** - You guys call it 'eighth grade', we call it 'year eight'. In primary school, it's 'grade one', 'grade two', etc. In high school, it's 'year seven', 'year eight', 'year nine', etc. There's no junior-high, no freshman, sophomore or senior. And we don't have separate schools. My school consisted of a kindergarten, primary school, middle school and secondary school all on one campus. Most Australian high schools are just one school with years 7 to 12.

**Kraft** - a snack company. They make a lot of cheese products.

**Ezy-Mac** - instant macaroni. You pour 3/4 of a cup of cold water into a jug with the pasta, zap it in the microwave for four minutes, and stir in the sachet of cheese. Done and done XD

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**A/N: I really like Mac/Max. She's growing on me :3**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! The next chapter is when things REALLY start happening, so hold on tight! :D**

**Reviews are love.**

**Until the next update,**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	5. Four

**March 30, 2010.**

**A/N: Readers! Letting everyone know that this chapter may be a little darkfic XD There's a bit of horror - well, as much as I could stomach myself (not much of a horror fan :P) - so be prepared. This isn't a happy-happy sparkly-power fic. This is meant to be slightly more realistic.**

**Thanks again to **Kyasarin Freakload**, for reviewing :) Aishiteru. Come to the forum more :D**

**Read on, with steeled nerves XD**

**Rated T for language.**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- FOUR -**

* * *

**2007**

* * *

**March 6 – 14:16**

Mackenzie was in the middle of sitting a mock English SAC when it happened.

Later, she would marvel at the absurdity of the coincidence; that, somehow, the two events that were possibly the most monumentous in her entire life had both happened during extremely important examinations.

At the time, though, she just freaked out.

She was pondering the third paragraph of her essay response to the prompt about _The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night _when she first heard the noise. It was like a low, nondescript rumbling – maybe a truck on the highway, or a plane overhead. Nothing extraordinary. Except for the fact that, a few minutes later, it was still there. And it was louder. A funny feeling settled in the pit of her something; the sense that something wasn't quite right.

Within minutes, Mackenzie's sneaking suspicion grew into full-blown anxiety. She couldn't put a finger on what she was feeling, or why she was feeling it; the closest explanation she had was that it was instinctive. Some weird sense she had – that didn't belong to the previous five defined senses – was telling her to panic. She tuned into the humming and out of her exam. By this stage the rumbling was louder, and others had started noticing. The ground had even started to hum in a soft tremble.

Perhaps a minute later – max two – the school was like a sci-fi horror movie.

As Mackenzie tried to scribble a quote she couldn't properly remember for her essay, movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. When she moved her head, she wished like hell that she could retrace the action and not have done it. Because in that moment, everything turned upside down.

Outside the window, a huntsman the size of a car was crawling towards the building. Its eight eyes winked creepily in the sun. The hairs on its multiple legs were like long blades. Instant utter terror seized her and froze every single muscle in her body. She couldn't even unstick her throat to scream. But she didn't have to. Someone outside did it for her.

After that, it was simply chaos. What exactly does one do when they spot a spider big enough to bite their head off lurking by the door? Mackenzie thought to herself, in an absurd state of delirium. The horrified shouts and shrieks of her classmates fell on her deaf ears; it was like she was in a sound proof room. Everything was strangely foggy. Whether it was because her biggest fear was of spiders, or because she had the odd sense of déjà vu – that she'd known this was coming – she couldn't tell.

People were suddenly running everywhere. The two teachers supervising the mock-exam shouted above the noise to try and restore a sense of calm, but by that stage, the arachnid was tapping the glass with two of its legs, and people were screaming like banshees. The particularly frightening thing was the alarming shuddering of the windows. If Mackenzie didn't know better, she'd have thought the glass wasn't strong enough to hold.

Unsurprisingly, Mackenzie was wrong. She rarely knew better, and as she watched, two spider-web-like fractures cracked in the glass. Everyone backed instinctively towards the door at the opposite end of the hall. It only took one more hit for the panels of glass to shatter completely. When people realised that this meant the spider had gained entrance to the room they were taking refuge in, chaos transformed quickly into utter terror.

The door they were all crowding around was thrown open, and students and teachers flooded outside. Mackenzie found herself swept along like a leaf in a river. It became quickly apparent, however, that outside was no safer than inside. The screams were much worse, and there were people everywhere, running in all directions. As Mackenzie gazed dazedly around she realised this was because, along with the gigantic huntsman that had gatecrashed their mock-exam, there was a centipede the size of a school bus blocking the front gate, a cockroach the likes of the animations in _Men in Black _scuttling behind the cafeteria, and several pillow-sized wasps hovering above the outdoor basketball courts.

Plus, there was a general oddness to her surroundings, which she couldn't place at first. Then she noticed that everything seemed to be shining. Focusing her gaze, she realised that this was due to the fact that the air was filled with tiny, transparent, glowing spheres with tentacles, about the size of a tombola marble. The biggest ones were the size of her fist. She had no idea what they were, but she couldn't feel them when she reached out. It was the most curious sensation, like they were projector images, not solid matter.

When Mackenzie tore her focus from the little glowing orbs to more pressing matters – like oversized insects rampaging her school – she realised that they weren't simply 'oversized bugs'. When one cornered a year eight girl by the drinking fountain and stung her in the shoulder with a stinger like a fencing sword, she came to the horrifying conclusion that the creatures were either carnivorous or murderous, and she didn't know which was worse. She watched the girl slump, unconscious, down the brick wall, blood welling through her dress from the wound, and bile rose up her throat. Reeling, she retched into a tin rubbish bin, expelling the contents of her stomach. Her hands, gripping the sides so hard her knuckles were white, trembled violently.

As screams of terror mixed with screams of pain, and wails of petrified students meshed with the school's fire alarm, Mackenzie swung from the bin and lurched away. She couldn't stay here. None of them could stay here. It was dangerous – they could actually possibly die. Above the general uproar were the very audible, very inhumane shrieks of the engorged insects, which made her skin crawl, and set her teeth on edge.

Deciding the front entrance was inaccessible, she set course for the back gate.

It didn't seem as though many other students had reached similar trains of thought yet. As she ran blindly through the mundane brick buildings, weaving her way towards the edge of campus, she noticed an alarmingly large number of kids trying to take refuge inside classrooms. As she passed by the arts centre, one enormous spider leg poked out of the door, and she foolishly risked a glance inside. Blood smeared the floor like a bathroom had flooded, and she didn't want to know where it had come from. For once, she had a horrible feeling her guess might actually be correct.

She whirled around the side of the building and collapsed against the wall, relishing in the quiet and gasping for breath – a mixture of pure terror, adrenaline, and having just run five minutes without stopping. Mackenzie had never been a fit girl.

Her mobile rang. Wrestling it out of her pocket, she flipped it open without thinking.

"Max! Where are you?! Are you okay?"

"I-if I've answered, th-then obviously I'm n-not dead!" she gasped, her voice trembling as badly as her hands. "Wh-what's–?"

"I don't know, but they're everywhere! Massive animals, like – _huge_! We don't have them here, luckily – but apparently they're targeting schools, whatever they are."

"B-bugs," Mackenzie gasped. "And I… I-I think they're k-killing people."

She realised the weight of what she'd just said, and burst into tears. At the other end of the line, Morgan was exclaiming and shouting, but she couldn't really hear her. People were _dying_ here. Being killed by _bugs. _Could it get anymore insane? Surely this was just an awful nightmare she'd concocted.

"Max! Listen to me! Listen! Stop hyperventilating – take deep breaths." Mackenzie latched onto her voice and focused hard – it was so easy to feel herself slipping into hysteria, but if she forced herself to focus only on Morgan, she could feel herself dragging herself slowly back to sanity.

"Nice and easy… that's right. In… out… In… out…" Morgan's voice said soothingly. "Do you understand what I'm saying? I need you to listen carefully, okay?"

"M-hmm," Mackenzie whimpered.

"Good. I'm coming to get you, alright? I'll be behind your school in ten minutes. Meet me by that dented bus stop sign. Don't move from there. But if I don't show up, wait five minutes and then get yourself home somehow."

"What–?"

"Ten minutes, okay?"

"O-okay."

"Stay safe." With a click, she was gone, and Mackenzie was back with the silence. Or so she thought. As she slipped her phone into her pocket, ignoring the faint screeching of the insects and the frightened screams of students, she became aware of a muffled thumping behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled; she turned slowly.

Eight pairs of twinkling black eyes stared at her from behind the glass windows, so close it was like looking into a mirror. Her heart leaped into her mouth, pure terror stabbed violently at her heart, and a scream stuck in her throat. Because it was actually sixteen eyes, not eight. Two enormous huntsmans sat side-by-side behind the windows, looking at her as though they couldn't quite work out why they couldn't get to her. Simultaneously, they reached up with their front legs and started whacking against the glass.

Mackenzie stumbled backwards, tripping on the lip of the pavement and sprawling ungracefully, scraping her palms against the concrete. Her eyes never strayed from the windows. Moments later, as she struggled backwards in an awkward sort of upside-down crawl, one shattered, and then the other. She screamed a piercing shriek as shards of glass rained down around her. And then they were crawling through, and she was half-dragging, half-stumbling to her feet, and running full-bolt in the opposite direction.

Get to the gates, get to the gates, get to the gates.

Well, she got to the gates. But why she thought that getting through the gates would stop two determined, car-sized spiders to give up chase, she didn't know. She exploded through the gate and onto the road, whipping around to see whether they were being magically detained. And they were right behind her, scrabbling up the fence, since they weren't small enough to fit through the gate. It was all legs of the worst kind.

The terror that gripped Mackenzie when she realised she wasn't safe yet was absolutely crippling. There were only two things occupying her thoughts: get out of danger, and get to the bus stop. How many minutes had it been, anyway? Three? Six? Fifteen? Morgan could have been and gone already. Or she might not even be halfway there yet.

The spider shrieks behind her inspired her to run again. The bus stop wasn't far from here. If she could just get somewhere and hide until Morgan came… The most terrifying sound was the rapid _thock-thock-thock-thock-thock_ of spider legs against the asphalt. It was like the sound of running your fingers along the keys of a keyboard without the power on, only amplified. And they were bloody fast spiders.

There it was! And, by some miraculous act of fate, there was Morgan, in her mother's car. Well, it looked a little bit like her mother's car. In actuality, it was like a bashed up version of it; dented severely, horribly scratched, and one of the headlights was smashed. A snap behind Mackenzie reminded her of the vicious fangs that were hoping to make a meal of her, and she squealed and scooted forward, making a beeline for the car. Morgan, who had watched the trio careen around the corner, sat with her mouth open and her eyes bugged. When sense kicked in again, she leaned over and threw the passenger car door open, letting the car roll forward at a pace that would allow Mackenzie to clamber in.

"Get in!" Morgan screamed hysterically as Mackenzie pulled the door wider. "Hurry! _Get in_!"

Mackenzie was trying very hard to do just that, but it was being made considerably more difficult due to the beam-like spider legs trying to stop her.

"They're fucking smart!" she wailed in frustration and terror, as her way was barred. "Move the car forward!"

Morgan obeyed, and a small gap was created between the cage of spider legs. Mackenzie dove for it without thinking, and was almost in the car when something grabbed her from behind. Morgan screamed mindlessly. The spider legs, it seemed, came with hook-like structures at the end. One had latched itself onto the hood of Mackenzie's jacket. She struggled against it for a moment, shrieking angrily, and reached with one bloody hand to unzip the front.

With a lurch, the jacket was ripped from her arms, yanking at her shoulders painfully, but she was free. From nowhere, another leg grabbed at her, ripping through the back of her school dress and scratching her back. Scorching hot pain exploded across her skin and a cry was ripped from her lips.

"Drive!" she shrieked, and Morgan hit the accelerator. With a screech of tires, the Holden commodore shot forward, and Mackenzie only just had time to right herself in her seat when the door swung shut heavily behind her.

Morgan – who had been on her p-plates for about a month – executed a terrible u-turn that almost took out a parked car, and floored it back up the road, taking what was meant to be a fifty zone at about eighty-five. The two very bemused spiders actually flinched and braced for impact as the car roared towards them, but leaped aside at the last moment, like they were playing some sick version of chicken.

With the realisation that they were safe – at least temporarily – silence fell over the best friends, broken only by the rapid, wheezy breaths escaping their chests and the roar of the engine as Morgan directed them home. They said nothing, for once, but sat out the short journey in a state of numb shock, lost entirely in their whirling thoughts.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**SAC - **School Assessed Coursework. When you take a year 12 subject, you have to sit a series of tests/assessments, the marks of which directly affect your final mark for that subject, and therefore affect your ENTER score, and therefore affects whether you get into university or not XD There's a lot of pressure on SACs. Most subjects have between 6 and 10 for the year.

**The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night **- is a book a lot of high school students study. I haven't read it myself; I think I read the first few chapters in year eleven... :/

**Rubbish bin** - Trash can.

**Mobile** - Cell phone.

**Fifty/Eighty-five** - kilometres per hour, not miles. Keep that in mind as you're reading other chapters.

* * *

**A/N: Think _HP: Chamber of Secrets_... Aragog, but not so gigantic XD**

**I told you it would speed up. Well, now it's sped up, and it'll stay fast from now :)**

**Review? Please?**

**Until the next update,**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	6. Five

**April 8, 2010.**

**A/N: Greetings!**

**So I spontaneously went away for the Easter weekend, and when I returned our computer was having issues. Sorry for the lack of updates this last week. But here's the next chapter :)**

**Now, it was recently alerted to me that the fic has a slow start. I did, in fact, know this, as the slowness of the start - the blandness of Australian life - was meant to contrast with the speed at which the rest of the fic develops, to show how extraordinary the ordeal is for Australia. BUT, as the lovely **sakuuya** suggested, I was actually supposed to write an enthralling prologue with lots of action, and then flick back to boring-ness. Don't ask me why I didn't carry out that plan. Serious lapse of intelligence there on my part.**

**So, there will be a prologue eventually. When I get around to writing it.**

**I'm also going to revise previous chapters soon with Culture Notes at the bottom, so you guys have more of an understanding of the Aussie slang I'm using :) That should make things a little easier. All in all, thank **sakuuya** for the developments.**

**That's it for today. Read on.**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- FIVE -**

* * *

**March 6 – 15:47**

"Where are they?"

Morgan stared glumly at the wall as Mackenzie paced anxiously, the cordless phone pressed to her ear. Her expression was tense, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

"I dunno."

"Why aren't they answering?" Mackenzie rumbled.

Morgan sighed. "I dunno, Max."

Mackenzie growled when the phone rang out again and punched in Sarah's mobile number. Knowing her sister, she probably hadn't even gone to school today, which – thankfully – crossed off the possibility of her being there in the slaughter, but opened up the infinite alternatives for where she could _actually_ be. Mackenzie could quite confidently assume both her parents were at work – _safe_ at work, she hoped. It was Sarah being currently MIA that was stressing her out.

"Max, relax for a second," Morgan begged her.

Mackenzie rounded on her. "Relax?! Are you shitting me? It's alright for you – you know everyone in your family is fine! Sarah could be _dead_!"

"I know!" Morgan roared back, shutting her up. "But sitting around blaming me isn't going to get you any answers! We're just going to have to wait a while."

Mackenzie sighed, and it felt like all the energy was drained from her body as she exhaled. She collapsed on the bed beside Morgan; the phone dropped from her fingers and thudded against the floor. She winced; throwing herself down made her back sting.

"Are you alright?" Morgan asked quietly.

"My back hurts…" Mackenzie muttered exhaustedly. Wordlessly, Morgan leaned over and gently pried apart the two flaps of her dress, examining her skin. To Mackenzie's unpleasant surprise, she hissed something between sympathy and horror.

"Holy shit."

"What?" Mackenzie demanded, alarmed. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"Are you fucking kidding?" Morgan choked. "Max, you have to go to a hospital. If that gets infected – well, any more infected – it could kill you."

"There are a lot of things out there right now that could kill me," Mackenzie replied irritably. Mainly, she was frightened by the worry in Morgan's voice. Sure, the scratch hurt, but it was just a scratch. It would heal. But Morgan's alarm had her questioning and doubting, and when she did that, all she did was frighten herself. "It'll be fine. Just clean it with Dettol or something."

"I'm not sure that'll help," Morgan said doubtfully. "It's just a bacterial cleanser. But it has to be better than nothing. Don't move – try and make yourself relax, okay?"

Mackenzie got up from the bed and crossed to the window, listening to Morgan fish around in the cupboards in the bathroom. Outside, she could see the little glowing orbs floating aimlessly, directionless, like spores in a breeze. She imagined it was what the air would look like if carbon dioxide or nitrogen suddenly became extremely fluorescent. The air was practically thick with the orbs.

"I told you to lie down," Morgan said irritably from behind her. "Disobedient child."

Mackenzie grinned and returned to her bed, lying comfortably on her stomach.

"Seriously, relax," Morgan said in a warning voice. "This is probably gonna hurt like a bitch."

It hurt like _more_ than a bitch, Mackenzie thought, trying to relax her instinctively tense muscles. It hurt like bloody hell. The pain was unbelievable – utterly mind-numbing. Her back stung like she'd had her whole body doused in scalding oil. It felt like the wound was on fire – she kept expecting to smell singed skin. She attempted to stem her streaming eyes, but eventually gave up and just let the tears flow until she was sniffling quietly into her doona, so worn out from the pain that she could hardly move.

"Done," Morgan said finally. "You alright down there?"

"I think I'd rather be dead," Mackenzie moaned. Morgan cleaned up the disinfectant mess and threw away the rubbish. Then she returned and made herself comfortable beside Mackenzie.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

Mackenzie shook her head. "But if you are, go eat something."

Morgan patted her head gently. "Sorry about the pain."

"Mmm…" Mackenzie managed sleepily. She was exhausted. The day had used up all her energy, plus her extra stores. She couldn't have gotten up even if her favourite re-run of _Family Guy _had come on. The last thing she was aware of before she succumbed to sleep was feeling Morgan get up from next to her, and kitchen noises before she slipped comfortably into darkness.

* * *

**March 7 – 07:04**

When Mackenzie opened her eyes and her gaze slowly came into focus, the first thing she noticed was that she was lying on her back, and that she had a perfect view of her old _Backstreet Boys _poster. She reasoned that Morgan was right: it really was time for that stupid thing to come down. The second thing she noticed was that being on her back was possibly the most stupid position to be sleeping in, because now she had to try and get up, and her back was killing her.

The third thing she noticed was that Morgan was sitting beside her – a fully awake, very alert Morgan, who was wearing an expression of ill foreboding.

"Morning," Morgan greeted, unsmiling. Mackenzie struggled to prop herself on her elbows.

"What's going on?"

Morgan pursed her lips and looked down at her entwined hands, which was a nervous habit of hers. "They never came home."

Mackenzie knew the answer to her next question before she'd even finished thinking it. The rest of her family was still MIA. She swallowed the nausea that was quickly swelling. "No word from Sarah?"

"Not yet."

"I was hoping she'd text, you know…"

"Yeah."

The girls were silent. Morgan watched Mackenzie anxiously for any signs of meltdown. Mackenzie stared at the phone on the floor and tried to drag together the many sporadic thoughts that were whizzing through her head.

"Maybe my parents stayed at work," she said eventually.

Morgan smiled a little. "Well, that's possible. They could easily have. And it'd make sense for them not to have headed out into… all that."

There was no need for her to elaborate on 'all that'.

"Breakfast?" Morgan offered instead. It might have been considered strange for anyone else to be offering her food in her own home, but it was Morgan, and she'd practically grown up at the Richards' residence. Her own home was nice and big, but rarely occupied, since both her mum and dad worked long hours, being a neurosurgeon and attorney, respectively. Plus her brother was now off studying at university. When home had become a place that was no longer 'homey', the Richards had welcomed her warmly into theirs.

Mackenzie was chewing on a mouthful of _Kellogg's Sultana Bran _when the front door shut and Morgan reappeared with two days' worth of mail that hadn't been collected. She dumped the fat wad of envelopes on the table and dropped down beside Mackenzie. Neither of them voiced the question that was bothering them both: Do we go to school today or not? It was much easier just pretending everything was right with the world.

"Anything interesting?" Mackenzie asked through a mouthful of cereal.

Morgan shrugged. "Lots of bank statements, bills, junk mail… Except–" She dragged the word out as she read the intended recipient of the envelope in her hand. It was bulky in one corner, like it contained something roughly spoon-shaped. "This one is for you, apparently."

Mackenzie took a look. There, typed on a neatly printed sticker, was her name, which was odd, because she hadn't ever signed up for anything, she hadn't started applying at universities yet, and she didn't exactly have a vast abundance of friends who could have written to her. Besides, it was the twenty-first century. No-one wrote letters these days when you could send an e-mail in five minutes.

She exchanged a curious look with Morgan, who was aware of the aforementioned facts as well, and messily opened it. A hastily folded letter fell out, and something hard and shiny dropped loudly onto the floor. Morgan stooped for it; Mackenzie unfolded the letter.

She struggled to make sense of what had been written, either because she skim-read most of it, or because it was written in a way that she couldn't understand, but she was much more interested in who the letter was from. At the very bottom, typed in small, bold print, was 'Dr. R. Shirogane'.

"It's that scientist," she blurted in astonishment. "That Japanese one we used to watch on _Youtube_."

"Does it explain what this thing is?" Morgan asked, holding up the object that had fallen out. It was roughly oblong, made of shiny solid gold, with lots of intricate detail and studded with rose quartz. When Mackenzie held it up to the light, it sparkled prettily.

"I dunno."

"Here." She handed the letter to Morgan, who perused it quickly, her eyebrows kicking every now and then. When she finished, she lowered the letter, looking up at Mackenzie as though she bore the world's biggest secret on her shoulders.

"Holy shit."

"What?"

"Didn't you _read_ this?" Morgan demanded, waving the letter.

Mackenzie blushed. "You know I'm not a morning person."

"We'll talk about it in the car," Morgan said decidedly, glancing at the microwave for the time.

"Where are we going?" Mackenzie asked, as Morgan whisked her half-eaten cereal away.

"My place," Morgan replied. "There's something in the mail I think I'm really going to need."

* * *

**March 7 – 08:40**

"So you actually believed all that _Tokyo Mew Mew _bullshit all along?" Mackenzie demanded in disbelief. She stared incredulously at Morgan, who was staring determinedly ahead as she drove.

"Um… yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mackenzie asked hotly, feeling wounded.

"Because the whole fucking thing sounded so stupid, and you didn't believe it," Morgan replied. "I felt like an idiot talking to you about it."

Mackenzie's head reeled. Morgan felt stupid talking to _her_? The world really _had_ tilted on its axis.

"I still don't think it's real," Mackenzie said, holding the pendant – that's what it was called, after all – up in the sunlight. "This could be a fake. It could easily be some jerk's idea of a joke."

"It's real, Max," Morgan said firmly. "It has the official insignia on it. And there's proof, anyway."

"Where?" Mackenzie immediately demanded. Morgan was silent; Mackenzie read her discomfort straight away. She narrowed her eyes.

"What have you done?"

"Nothing, honestly," Morgan said quickly. "But… um… you know that time you fell asleep in your exam?"

For some odd reason, Mackenzie had a feeling she knew where this was going. "Yeah…?"

"Well, that's when you merged with your DNA partner," Morgan explained. "It was the injection process that made you sleepy, because your body has to be inactive for the process to work; your brain can't handle the neuron dynamics and the genetic convergence if it's conscious."

"Morgan, I know you've always been really smart, but, seriously–" Mackenzie laughed incredulously "–how do you know that? Did they teach you in science?"

"No. It… um…" Morgan glanced over guiltily. "It happened to me, too."

"Hypocrite!" Mackenzie accused, mouth falling open. "You blew it off so easily when it happened to me! That's so unfair!"

"I know; I'm sorry. It happened to me _after _it happened to you, and I felt so stupid because I didn't believe you," Morgan said, red-faced. "I couldn't admit it happened to me, too. But… anyway… it happened during French. And I had this weird dream. Did you have a dream?"

Mackenzie was quiet as she thought back. It had been a long time since it had happened to her; her memory was a bit fuzzy. "I dunno. Maybe? I remember a feeling of falling, and some white light. That's about it."

"That's the dream," Morgan said. She turned into her street. "It's supposed to be a vision of the animal you're genetically compatible with."

Mackenzie's stomach flipped. "I can't remember mine."

"Neither," Morgan reassured her. "I don't think it really matters that much, to be honest. Your animal's your animal, regardless. Wait here just a second."

She darted out of the car and scurried to the mailbox, returning a moment later with an envelope that matched Mackenzie's.

"Okay, buckle up," she said, which Mackenzie found ironic, since her seatbelt was already done up. A suspicious thought alarmed her.

"Morgs… Where are we going?"

Morgan glanced sidelong at her. "Back to yours. It's probably the safest place right now."

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Dettol: **Anti-bacterial disinfectant. A big product in Australia.

**'Hurt like a bitch': **A commonly used phrase, especially among young people. We have a way with words, no? XD

**Doona: **Duvet, the Americans call them. Bedding, basically.

**Kellogg's: **The dominant cereal company.

**Sultana Bran: **Straightforward, really. Bran flakes plus sultanas. Um... raisins, if you don't know what sultanas are.

* * *

**Anyway! Our Aussie heroines are starting to work things out, ne? But does clever Morgan know everything? Well, you shall see, won't you?**

**Next chapter should be up soon :)**

**Reviews are love!**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	7. Six

**April 11, 2010.**

**A/N: Hullooo, fictioners. **

**I've gotta say, this story has exploded like a rocket since I started it. You know, I initially intended for it to be a ten-chapter darkfic, but now, I'm starting chapter sixteen, and I have too many places for it to go for it to finish soon XD**

**May I just say here, that if you're enjoying the strange darkfic-eqsue, AU-ness of this fic, then go and read 'Severance', by **sakuuya**. Seriously, it's the fic that created an interest in me for darkfics; it inspired this one. It's brilliant. Oh, **sak**, if you're reading... update? Come on, man, last chapter! D:**

**Otherwise, that's it for today. Happy reading!**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- SIX -**

* * *

**March 7 – 09:22**

The drive home had not been pleasant. The roads were crowded with cars; the atmosphere busy and anxious. There was tenseness in the air that crackled like electricity. It was fear, Mackenzie realised, thinking about it as they shuffled along in the bumper-to-bumper slug of traffic. Fear, and confusion, and mild chaos.

Getting out of the car, she looked around. The orbs didn't seem to be diminishing yet; if anything, they seemed to have multiplied, actually. Mackenzie shook off the edgy feeling they gave her and followed Morgan to the door.

"Whaddaya think they are?" she asked, her eyes flicking from one glowing ball to the next. Morgan glanced over her shoulder, seeing them as if she hadn't noticed them before.

"No fucking idea," she replied, glaring at them. She shoved the door open, then wheeled, her eyes wide. "Oh my god, we're idiots!"

"What?" Mackenzie asked, alarmed.

"Someone out there has to have answers," Morgan replied, dumping her bag unceremoniously and heading for Mackenzie's bedroom, Mackenzie trailing at her heels like a lost puppy. Morgan made herself comfortable at the computer and turned it on. "We should've done this yesterday. Bet ya ten bucks Dr. Shirogane's posted updates."

It made perfect sense, and Mackenzie felt foolish for not thinking of it earlier. "Want a glass of water?"

"Thanks," Morgan replied, clicking away. When Mackenzie returned, a video was buffering. Morgan grinned at her triumphantly, dark eyes almost excited. "Told ya."

They squashed together in front of Mackenzie's old computer and let the video play. Dr Shirogane's face appeared in the centre of the screen, looking strained.

"This video is being recorded on March 6. The time is eleven-thirty in the morning. In precisely half an hour, the Cyniclons will attack. We've detected them within our atmosphere. We suspected the attack would be full-scale, but it seems we've underestimated our enemy. There are more of them than we expected. We've confirmed six foreign vessels which appear to be mother-ships. Smaller ships have been positioned above various nations: India, China, Africa, the U.S., Australia, the United Kingdom, Iran, Germany – the list continues.

"Unfortunately, we can only estimate the enemy's method of attack, though we are confident they will use similar tactics to their previous invasion. In a few moments, you will view a diagram of a creation known as a Chimera Anima – a protoplasmic creature designed to mutate the genetics of any living creature, excluding humans." A picture appeared on the screen, and Mackenzie gave a shout of recognition. Morgan quickly shushed her, focusing intently. "The Chimera attach themselves to the host, absorbing their genetic foundations and exacerbating total body mass and physical statistics like stamina and speed, by combining the host's original genetics with a set of foreign genetics. Put simply, the host becomes an alien creation, with the sole intention of killing humans."

"Bullshit. Aliens don't–"

"Max! Shh!"

"We don't have much time left," Dr Shirogane was saying quickly. "The Chimera are difficult opponents, and unless you are specifically trained, destroying them is near to impossible. The chances of survival when fighting against these monsters is less than four percent. We advise anyone watching to not attack, unless you have a death-wish. Take refuge and look after yourselves and your loved ones. The safest places are those that are underground, or remote.

"Our enemy will, logically, target places of high population density. If you have the ability to evacuate the cities, we strongly suggest you do so. Another update will be posted as soon as possible. Until then, expect the worst. The earth will be hit hard. Our enemies will be ruthless. There will be bloodshed. But saving our future will not be impossible."

The video ended.

"I don't get how it works," Mackenzie said. "I couldn't even feel those things when I tried to touch them."

"That's because we're immune to them," Morgan replied. "They mutate animals, I think. Well… that's what the professor said."

"Animals…" Mackenzie repeated. The light bulb flicked on in her head. "Like insects."

"Yep. Just like those spiders."

"But…" A horrifying thought had just struck Mackenzie. Her mouth sagged for a moment. "Shit! There are _thousands _of them. What – they're _all _going latch onto some poor animal somewhere and make monsters out of them? Nuh-uh. Sorry. This is bullshit."

She got up and stalked from the room, part-irritated at how outrageous everything was, part-terrified that, despite her doubt, she was believing it, because the proof was all around her that it was real; those disgusting jellyfish things the professor had talked about were floating past her window as they spoke.

"Max–" A roar like the thundering of airplane engines ripped through the silence, vibrating violently through the floor. Mackenzie turned instinctively in the direction it had originated, and found herself looking straight into an enormous electric-blue eye that was almost as big as the window.

She screamed. Morgan was beside her in a flash, face panic-stricken.

"What's–?" A second roar effectively muted the rest of her sentence, then there was an ear-splitting crash and a gigantic, clawed paw ripped through the wall. Screaming, the girls retreated to the room of easiest access: the lounge room. Eyes huge and mouths open, they backed up as the monstrous beast shoved its head through the jagged hole in the Richards' kitchen. It roared threateningly, revealing dripping, carnivorous teeth, and reached with a paw the size of an armchair to swipe at them.

Without thinking, Morgan grabbed Mackenzie and dragged her out of the way. The monster's claws left wall-to-wall gashes in the carpet, like someone had run through with a big, steel rake.

"Grab some stuff!" Morgan yelled, screaming as part of the roof caved in. Plaster rained down around them; they shielded their heads, flinching as they were pelted.

"Like what?"

"Some warm clothes, your wallet, maybe a couple of blankets or something – I dunno!" Morgan bellowed, as a monster paw took out the lounge room wall. The noise was deafening; like they were stuck in the middle of a demolition zone with no protective earmuffs. "_Useful _things!"

She gave Mackenzie a forceful shove that almost sent her sprawling, and Mackenzie ran blindly for her room, heart in mouth, pulse hammering in her ears. She fumbled around stupidly, grabbing things at random and throwing them into a bag. Thirty seconds later, she realised she'd mindlessly chucked in completely idiotic things like her old calisthenics trophies from when she was five, and her maths textbooks. She emptied half the contents and repacked, messily shoving in half of her jumper drawer and the first aid kit her mum had made up for her to take on school camp last year.

Mackenzie gathered her pillows and doona up in her arms as she left, wrestling the whole lot towards where she prayed the front door still was. She focused on looking ahead; if she turned around she'd be forced to see the missing back half of the house, and she just didn't think she could handle it right now. Frustrated roars of the mutant beast propelled her forward - pushed her legs faster - and she was exploding out onto the driveway in a matter of seconds.

"Here!" Morgan called, throwing the boot of the Holden open. She grabbed half of the armload impatiently and threw it haphazardly at the boot, slamming the lid with a little too much gusto."Get in!"

The monster had, at this point, noticed their attempted getaway. It loomed over the semi-destroyed house, snarling down at them from its extremely intimidating full-height, and lifted a paw, looking as though it planned on stepping over the house to get to them. Or maybe stepping through it. Mackenzie dove for the car; she was fumbling stupidly for the seatbelt as Morgan reversed madly onto the street. She just had time to stick the car into drive and shoot forward to avoid the enormous paw that was trying to crush them. With a colossal crunch of gravel, the asphalt buckled and collapsed under the weight, leaving a crater in the road when it lifted away.

By this stage, the girls were turning out of Mackenzie's street and screeching in whatever direction seemed to be most opposite from the house.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Mackenzie was whimpering, pale-faced and trembling.

"What? What is it?" Morgan snapped breathlessly, gripping the wheel so hard her knuckles were cracking from the pressure.

"That thing…" Mackenzie trailed off weakly. She couldn't believe what she'd seen when they'd pulled out of the driveway. She'd had a clear view straight past the house to the backyard, and her gaze had fallen immediately on what had been the remains of Rusty's wooden doghouse. The rest of it had been scattered over the grass. "I… I think…" Her lip trembled.

"Max, _what_?"

"I-I think it was Rusty…" She was piecing together how it could have happened in her mind, so crystal-clear and horribly detailed that it was like watching a movie in her head. Rusty dozing in his kennel, a stray floating jellyfish somehow making its way inside and latching onto him – taking over his body – and seizing control. Turning him into a monster that grew and grew until it was too big for the little doghouse, and it had exploded as he'd continued to expand rapidly…

"Fuck me!" Morgan exclaimed tactlessly, dragging her sharply back to reality. "No _shit_!" She stared, wide-eyed, at Mackenzie. "Holy… That's just..."

Mackenzie didn't really feel like talking. Her mind was whirling dizzily; she was in such a state of shock. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head back exhaustedly against the headrest. The nightmare wasn't going away; it was dragging on and on… Without even realising it, her brain switched to auto-pilot and promptly switched off, doing its best to instinctively protect her. The vivid images and frightening memories faded into nothingness, and she was granted a short relief from everything that awaited when she woke again.

* * *

**March 7 – 16:38**

"Max, wake up."

The sky behind the car windows was faded orange-red, dusted with shadowed clouds. Mackenzie looked over sleepily; Morgan was undoing her seatbelt. She immediately imitated, pushing herself up straighter in her seat.

"Where are we?"

"A friend's," Morgan replied. "Apparently things haven't been bad here." She opened the car door. "Come on."

The first thing Mackenzie noticed was that, if the faint pounding music coming from behind the front door was anything to go by, things weren't bad here _at all. _She glanced suspiciously at Morgan's back as her friend rang the doorbell. The second thing she noticed was the loud chatter of voices as the door swung open, followed by the warm scent of a party. Her heart sank as she stepped over the threshold with Morgan, who was already smiling at people.

"Jess, you don't mind if we crash here do you?" she called. The girl who let them in – the host, apparently – waved one hand casually in the air, walking away. Evidently, that was her way of consenting. Morgan started to walk, but Mackenzie grabbed her arm.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"Why did we come _here_?" Mackenzie asked, her voice sticking in her throat. She was way outside her comfort zone, and the fact that Morgan knew she hated parties left her feeling more than a little hurt. Didn't Morgan care about her feelings? She tried not to look offended.

"I knew she'd let us crash," Morgan replied, raising her voice to be heard over the House music. She shrugged. "It was the best I had on short notice."

"Couldn't we have just stayed at yours?" Mackenzie almost begged, glancing around Morgan to the group of guys stacking Corona bottles in a hazardous pyramid on the coffee table.

"Don't be stupid," Morgan snapped. "My house is probably worse than yours right now. Just dump everything upstairs and come mingle with us."

Feeling wounded, Mackenzie tried very hard not to glower at her best friend. "Okay… I'll be down in a sec."

Morgan smiled happily and pointed her in the direction of her friend's bedroom. "I'll grab you a Cruiser, okay? After the day we've had, you need a drink. Trust me, you'll like it."

Mackenzie trooped upstairs and stood silently for a few minutes, gazing around the dim bedroom, feeling lost and anxious and very unhappy. Not to mention betrayed by the only person she had right now. The thought demolished whatever tiny almost-desire she had to return to the party. Instead, she wrapped herself in her doona and sunk down to sit on the floor and cry.

In the midst of watching her classmates being eaten by alien monsters, having her house destroyed by her pet, losing practically everything she had ever owned, and finding herself homeless and – for the moment – family-less, Mackenzie seriously doubted getting blind drunk was what she needed. She sent another hopeful text off to her sister and made herself more comfortable, resting her head against the wall to watch the shadows dance in the dying afternoon light.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**'Bet ya ten bucks'** - Extremely Australian. Especially in children.

**Bucks** - Dollars.

**Jumper **- Sweater.

**Holden **- A brand of car in Australia. One of the two biggest teams that race in the Bathurst 1000 - a huge car race held annually in New South Wales. A teacher of mine once told me that Holden is the Australian equivalent of America's General Motors.

**The boot** - Um... the very back of the car, where you put stuff XD I think the Americans call it the 'trunk'...?

**'Fuck me!' **- Does not actually mean 'sleep with me right now'. It is used to express shock or disbelief, mostly among males.

**Corona and Cruiser** - I hope you guys have these drinks. I'm gonna explain them anway. A Corona is a light beer, drunk with a slice of lemon in the neck. A Cruiser is a pre-mixed Vodka drink - nicknamed 'lolly water' here - that comes in all sorts of fruity flavours. Mostly teenage girls drink them. They're sickly sweet and very disgusting XD

* * *

**NOTES**

**Note! **In Shirogane's video, he says the time is 11:30am. Keep in mind that it isn't the time in Melbourne - it's the time in Tokyo. While the time was 1:30 for Max and Morgan, it was two hours earlier in Japan. Timezones, people. Obviously it couldn't be 1:30 in both Australia and Japan.

**Note!** In this story, you'll find I switch from calling the Chimera Anima 'Chimera Anima' to just 'Chimera'. I am referring to the same thing. The reason for this is that it's been such a long time since I wrote a fic involving Chimera Anima, that I've actually forgotten what a Chimera Anima really is. In my mind, it refers to both the glowing blob orb and the mutant beast creation. I am most likely wrong. So bear with me on that :S Apologies in advance to sakuuya, who really isn't going to like it.

* * *

**Good lord, Max's house has been destroyed D: Whatever will our heroines do now? Next chapter will be up soon for you to find out! :)**

**... Review? :D**

**Until the next update.**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx **


	8. Seven

**April 15, 2010.**

**A/N: Yo, Fictioners :)**

**So, here we are at chapter seven. I guess I don't really have much to say today... Big huge thanks to the reviewers so far; your thoughts, critiscisms and inputs are much appreciated -- every single thing said is taken on board :)**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- SEVEN -**

* * *

**March 8 – 09:13**

The expensive house in Balwyn might have been beautiful once. Now, littered with half-empty cans of drink and strewn with unconscious teenage bodies, it wasn't looking particularly inviting. Mackenzie picked her way through the debris as she headed to the kitchen in search of a glass of water. Ironically, the weather outside was bright and clear – blue sky and white fluffy clouds, if you looked past the glowing Chimera Anima. A happy little bird chirped complacently in the gum tree next to the window. She nudged a garbage bag overflowing with rancid rubbish aside with her foot and filled a faded _Bananas in Pyjamas_ cup – the only clean one she could find – with tap water.

Still no word from anyone in her family. And was Morgan even still here?

* * *

**March 10 – 19:34**

Mackenzie winced as she stood up from the carpet. The pain shooting through her back seemed to grow every day – the scratch was much more tender now, and felt rawer than it had when she'd first got it. She didn't even know if it was possible for the wound to hurt more than it had at the time. But she was having trouble moving around; if she wasn't careful, it could sting ruthlessly for an hour at a time. Consequently, sleeping was very difficult. As if it wasn't hard enough to get with all the pounding music and loud voices downstairs – practically 24/7.

Life was a constant party at Jessica's house.

Mackenzie locked herself upstairs most of the time, distracting herself by trying to establish contact with her missing family so she wouldn't get angry. She stomped around when she was angry, and it hurt her back. She just couldn't believe that, in a time of crisis, Australia's kids preferred to hide away and party until reality wasn't even a niggling worry at the back of their minds. To her, it was immaturity at its best. Or worst, really. And it disappointed her that Morgan chose to stay down there, pretending everything was right with the world, rather than facing facts with her.

Australia had been invaded… by weird things called Chimera Anima. She knew that much, and it didn't make any sense, but that didn't mean it hadn't happened. Outside the dark window, the iridescent yellow orbs drifted lazily by. Every time she looked out, it was a jolting shock to see them. But they were always there. Just because there was a binging party going on downstairs didn't change the fact that there were monsters terrorising the streets.

"There you are!"

Mackenzie looked up. Morgan was standing in the doorway, her fingers curled around the neck of a Smirnoff double black. She smiled, unaware of the state of disarray of her chin-length hair, and walked in. "What're you doing up here, miss antisocial?"

Mackenzie shrugged. She didn't really feel like talking to Morgan. Her friend seemed not to notice; she wandered over to Jessica's unslept-in bed and flopped down.

"You should come downstairs," she said, nodding knowingly, lazily. Mackenzie wrinkled her nose. Was it possible for Morgan to still be drunk? Actually, it was probable, since she hadn't been without a drink in her hand since they'd first arrived. How she did it was beyond Mackenzie. Surely she would start to feel sick and disgusting at some point.

"Nah, I'm good," Mackenzie said.

Morgan turned her head and gave her a _look_. "It's a shitload more fun than up here."

Mackenzie ignored this. She'd learned over the past few days that it was best to. "Morgs… Have you heard from your parents?"

Morgan shrugged – it was awkward due to the upside-down position she was lying in. "Got a message from Dad a couple of days ago. Missed a call from Mum yesterday, I think."

Mackenzie's mouth dropped open. "Call her back!"

"Nah, she's fine," Morgan replied calmly, taking a swig from the bottle. She giggled when a splash spilled on her cheek. "Oops."

"Morgan, your mum's probably worried about you," Mackenzie said seriously, wishing she'd missed a call from _her _mother. "She probably just wants to know if you're still alive."

"You're taking this way too seriously, Max," Morgan replied, smiling and slurring her words. "In a couple of days, this will blow over, and then everything'll be normal and boring again. Relax and come party with us. Don't waste this valuable break from school."

Mackenzie stared at her for a long moment, until she said, confused, "What?"

"I don't think this is just gonna 'blow over'."

"Worry wart."

Mackenzie fought the irritation swelling in her chest. "I'm worried about my family. Don't you think it's weird that I haven't heard from anyone for four days? Four days! That's as long as a school camp."

"We've been over this," Morgan said, frowning.

"And I don't think 'no reception' is really the answer anymore," Mackenzie replied hotly. "I'm sick of being stuck in this house, Morgan. Can we leave tomorrow?"

"Don't be stupid," Morgan snapped, pushing herself up on her elbows. "This is the fucking safest place for us right now."

"You're saying that because you want to stay and drink your life away," Mackenzie shot back angrily. "While _my family_ is missing. You don't even care, do you?"

"I do!" Morgan protested. "But you're making a big deal out of nothing. They're fine."

"I don't think they are!" Mackenzie cried, and then she was crying. "They could be dead somewhere, Morgan. Dead! What if those monsters got my mum, or my sister?"

Morgan sat silently and stared at her.

"What if they _were _fine, but no-one helped them, and they slowly died somewhere, painfully? In a gutter, or on the street, or in a scungy alleyway…"

"That's a bit melodramatic, don't you think?" Morgan said, rolling her eyes. Mackenzie wiped furiously at her face and shot an angry glare at her. There was clearly no point trying to talk to her best friend about anything serious. The realisation just left her feeling tired and sad. Defeated.

"Go back to the party," she said, sniffing back the rest of her tears and taking a deep, calming breath. She sighed shakily, pulling herself together. "I'm gonna try and sleep. I don't feel well."

"Alright," Morgan agreed easily. Too easily. "You must be so exhausted. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yep," Mackenzie replied shortly, tonelessly.

"Do you want me to shut the door?"

"Thanks."

She glared bitterly at the back of the door for a long time after Morgan had gone.

* * *

**March 11 – 10:56**

Mackenzie still wasn't feeling well when she woke up. An uncomfortable nausea had settled in her stomach, and she had a bit of a headache. Every time she moved her back smarted – even the tiniest movements set it off now, which made walking a pain. Literally.

Nevertheless, she dragged herself out from under her doona and struggled downstairs, picking her way through the destruction zone to the study. The general rule seemed to be: Why bother cleaning up when we're going to make the same mess all over again? As a result, the entire house was trashed with about a week's worth of partying. Empty bottles, half-empty cans, old pizza boxes, half-eaten packets of chips (their contents were strewn all over the carpet in various rooms). Plus, the contents of the rooms seemed to have played musical-rooms. There were things everywhere. Cushions, books, magazines, decorative statues, vases – in the most random of places. You name it, it was most likely not where it belonged.

Mackenzie carefully stepped over a topless, unconscious boy with lipstick drawings on his back, and dodged the up-turned coffee table, quietly slipping into the study and shutting the door. It was, perhaps, one of the neatest rooms, if you ignored the pile of unrolled toilet paper in the corner and the rubbish scattered over the desk and floor. She kicked a clear path to the computer and sat down, removing the beer cans from the seat before doing so.

_Youtube_ was open in minutes, and she was browsing the recent uploads hopefully. Unsurprisingly, everything was invasion-related. Teens calling out messages to their friends. Tribute clips. People searching for missing family members. The more she searched, the more she realised that this – whatever this was that was happening right now – wasn't just having a massive impact on her little world. This was an enormous, global invasion. And it was affecting _everybody_, everywhere. She sat and stared at the screen, overwhelmed by the revelation, for several good long minutes.

Then, conceding that Dr. Shirogane hadn't updated anything yet, no matter how many times she double-checked, she checked her mobile hopefully, chewing her lip worriedly. Its battery life was getting low. It would run out soon if she didn't charge it. Frustratingly, she'd left the charger plugged into the wall at whatever was left of home. Acknowledging that there was little she could do about it at the moment, Mackenzie returned upstairs to curl back up under her doona. There wasn't much she could do at all right now. The best thing to do was just sleep to pass the time.

* * *

**March 12 – 13:52**

Oh, man. She felt so sick. Morgan pushed herself up from where she was lying, yawning hugely and running a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. Oh, yuck. Was it really that dirty? And – Jesus – what the hell was _that_? She pulled her hand out of her hair and examined it, wrinkling her nose. As long as it wasn't vomit… She wasn't brave enough to smell it and see.

Holy crap, there were people _everywhere. _But where was Max? The house was silent around her – weirdly silent, not naturally silent. She stifled another huge yawn and her stomach gurgled unappreciatively. She rubbed it soothingly. God, what had she been _filling it _with lately? The Corona bottles at her feet were enough of an answer. Right. Time to get up. Morgan kicked the bottles away and struggled slowly to her feet. She felt heavy and woozy – her body just felt tired_. _No, exhausted. Her legs wobbled as she forced them slowly upstairs.

"Max?"

Echoing memories of the pounding music last night thudded in her ears, though everything was quiet. It felt like someone had stuffed her ear canals with cotton wool. Ugh. Her mouth tasted feral. She wondered vaguely when she'd last brushed her teeth.

The room behind the door was dim, but she could make out Mackenzie's form curled under the doona in the corner. She stood in the doorway, listening to her best friend breathing peacefully, wondering why she chose to sleep on the hard floor rather than in the empty bed. Jess certainly wasn't using it. Speaking of Jess, she hadn't seen her for a while now…

"Max… Wake up," Morgan whispered, a little louder this time. She tiptoed to her friend's side and knelt down. Mackenzie didn't move. Her long, mousey hair was messy against the pillow. Morgan shoved her shoulder gently. "Max."

Mackenzie gave a low, soft groan, but otherwise made no effort to acknowledge her presence. Morgan sat back for a second, then got up and pulled the curtains open. Sunlight flooded the bedroom, illuminating the little particles of dust floating lazily. Holy crap, the whole place was in desperate need of a tidy up. Even Mackenzie's room – the neatest of the lot – was dusty.

Mackenzie gave a half-hearted moan of complaint. Morgan smiled and dropped down beside her, pulling the covers back. "Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty." She waited for Mackenzie to open her eyes, and as she looked closely at her face, Morgan began to get the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

"Max? Come on, get up," she said, louder, shaking her shoulder again.

"No," Mackenzie muttered weakly, frowning. The sunlight glittered against her forehead. Morgan blinked. Glittered? Hang on a second… She examined her best friend's face more closely, looking now for the things that weren't normal. First, she noticed how unnaturally pale and sallow her skin was. Secondly, how contrastingly flushed her cheeks were. Thirdly, how clammy she was, and how dry her lips were. She rested a hand against Mackenzie's forehead, alarm beating quickly in her heart.

"Hey, Max… Max!" She shook her friend's shoulder more firmly this time.

"… Go… away…" Max whispered.

"No, you have to get up now," Morgan replied, worried. "It's almost lunch time." A thought struck her. "When was the last time you ate?"

Max shrugged weakly under the doona. Oh dear. This was _not _good.

"Up, Max. Now. We've gotta get some food into you," Morgan said, pulling the doona off her body. "Here, let me help you."

"No," Max protested as she tried to encourage her. "I… just wanna… sleep…"

"You can't sleep!" Morgan argued. "Stop being stupid, and stand up! You probably haven't eaten properly in days."

Max didn't reply. Morgan grunted and got her somehow to her feet, but she swayed dangerously and leaned heavily against her. "I don't… feel good…"

"You'll feel better after you eat," Morgan promised, genuinely worried now. "Just come downstairs with me."

But Max didn't even make it to the door. She'd only taken four or five steps when her knees caved and she collapsed in a heap on the floor, dragging Morgan down with her. Untangling their arms, Morgan tested her forehead again, suddenly scared. Her heart pounded anxiously. Mackenzie was running a scorching fever.

"Max, you have to help me. At least try to walk to the car. We've gotta get you to a doctor."

Even in her current state of alcoholically-induced zombie-ism, Morgan was no idiot. Max was sick – that much was obvious as day. But it was worse than just your usual cold or bad bout of the flu. As she struggled to support Max's weight, manoeuvring them carefully down the stairs, Morgan couldn't shake the terrifying feeling that something was horribly wrong with her best friend.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Balwyn** - A suburb of, erm... eastern?... Melbourne. It's a nice area, with up-market properties. A little toffee, if you know what I mean. If you don't, then 'toffee' is apparently another Australian thing XD'

**Bananas in Pyjamas** - Yeah, that's pYjamas, not pAjamas. It was a kids' TV show when I was very young, involving five people in oversized costumes - two bananas: B1 and B2, and three teddies: Amy, Lulu... and the boy one I can't remember the name of XD'... Ah, I used to love that show :3

**Smirnoff** - Everyone knows Smirnoff! D: It's Russian vodka :)

**A shitload** - A heck of a lot/a hell of a lot.

**Worry wart** - Um... I dunno if other countries say this, too... I'm pretty sure they do :S Basically means 'You're stressing out too much', in a calling-names sort of way.

**Chips** - Crisps/potato chips.

* * *

**NOTES**

**Quote! **Lolz to this sequence of sentences: 'The sunlight glittered against her forehead. Morgan blinked. Glittered?' -- This is not intended to be in any way related to, or insinuative of, _Twilight_. Mackenzie is NOT A VAMPIRE. I hope other people didn't immediately think of Edward Cullen when they read that little segment... 'cause when I was editing it, that was the first thing that popped into MY mind, and that's NOT A GOOD THING. D:

* * *

**My, my, Morgan _is _being difficult. Poor Max; what in the world is wrong with her? Well, I know, of course. You're just going to have to wait and see :P**

**You know, **sakuuya **once asked me, in regards to the culture notes, if my reading American fanfics was anything like you lot reading this Aussie fic, in terms of not understanding slang and general culutural details. The answer to this is: YES. When I first started reading American-written fanfics and stories, I was so lost. But, of course, most fanfics are written by American author/esses, so you get used to things pretty quickly. I know now what Captain Crunch and Cheerios are, and I've researched Applebee's, Piggly Wigglys, and Walmart XD Plus you get to know slang -- I know you guys are referring to tomato sauce when you say 'ketchup', and things like that XD So yes, it was odd for me when I first came here, but I feel like an honourary American now :P**

**Reviews are love! :3**

**Until the next update.**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	9. Eight

**April 18, 2010.**

**A/N: Hey, guys.**

**So, once again, **sakuuya** has raised an interesting point. In her review of the last chapter, she asked me why the internet and such are still working. I mean, according to the story, it's been a mass-scale invasion, which means routine life should pretty much be stagnant, what with there being no-one around to maintain it... right? Right?**

**Well, to my way of thinking, at this stage of the invasion, there would still be enough people around (bear in mind we're only about five or six days in) for the internet to still be up and running. In fact, I think it would continue to run, unless it got to the point where humanity's existence was being severely minimalised. Basically, I think it's still early enough in the invasion for life to be still sort of normal-ish, whilst being thrown upside down. Does anyone get what I mean?**

**Anyway! Onwards with the chapter. Enjoy :)**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- EIGHT -**

* * *

**March 12 – 14:21**

Clock Corner Medical Centre was closed. Morgan stared in disbelief at the dark interior behind the glass door, at the stark 'CLOSED' sign against the window. How could it be closed? Medical centres were always open! Just because she felt like it, she rattled the handle angrily, though she knew absolutely nothing good would come of it.

She grabbed her mobile out of her pocket. Damn, the battery was almost dead. She'd charge it when she got back to Jess'. Oh, wait. The little screen read:

**Telstra  
Balwyn Nth  
Sunday, March 12  
2:23 PM**

Well, that explained why the clinic was closed. Nothing was open on a Sunday, except for McDonalds. And hospitals, she realised, which should be open 24/7. Morgan hurried back to the car and slammed the door. Max was sleeping in the passenger seat, her head lolling droopily. She chewed her lip worriedly for a moment, then reversed quickly out of the empty car park.

Hospital it was.

Fifteen minutes later, the commodore was pulling up out the front of Box Hill Hospital. The drive should have been much quicker, but Morgan had had to look the place up in the Melways. She eased Max out of the car and half-dragged her through the main entrance. From there, it was easy. She struggled to call for help, and the receptionist looked up, calling immediately for a stretcher. Max was led off to the ED, and Morgan was left to sit on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the cold, clinical waiting room, with nothing to entertain herself with but a few tattered, old magazines and a flickering TV in the corner broadcasting _Coxy's Big Break._

* * *

**March 12 – 15:06**

"Get Dr. Ambrose, please."

Footsteps walking quickly away, fading. The faint sounds of machines beeping, and something hissing quietly every few seconds.

Paper rustling. Something plastic was put down.

More footsteps; more people this time.

"Mark?"

"Hi, Glen. Would you mind taking a look at the wound on her back for a moment?"

Someone hissing in shock.

"Jesus – how'd she manage that?"

"No idea. The girl who brought her in claims she was attacked by a spider."

"A spider?" A male voice laughs incredulously. "Bullshit."

"Victoria, would you mind setting up the suture kits? We need to try and close this wound. Clear theatre four – she needs open surgery, asap."

"How on earth are you going to clean that?"

"I have no idea. Standard procedures first, but I don't think this is a normal case. We might have to call Roger. The skin around the wound looks abnormal for a regular laceration."

A female voice. "Should I call?"

"I'll let you know. Just get the theatre ready for now."

Footsteps walking quickly away; light, feminine.

"What symptoms is she showing?"

"Hot and cold sweats, shivers… she's running a high fever – thirty nine point six. She's clearly dehydrated… She could possibly be malnourished – she's suffering extreme fatigue. All the signs are there – it all points to–"

"Fighting infection," the other man finishes. "But it's just a wound."

"Well, it's obviously gotten infected at some point. Badly. Discharge from the laceration itself is green. Actually, it's very similar to some of the other cases we've had recently, don't you think?"

Footsteps returning. "Theatre four's ready."

"Thanks, Victoria. Are you free for the next half hour, Glen?"

"Yeah, I should be. I've got surgery at four, but otherwise…"

"Mind helping me move her to IC?"

Their words become hazy. Her hearing is fuzzy. She stops listening.

* * *

**March 12 – 17:43**

"Miss Reid?"

Morgan started, quickly dragged out of her bored stupor, and looked around. The doctor who had wheeled Max away had finally returned. She glanced at the clock. No wonder she was hungry; it was almost six.

"Mackenzie's procedure went well," Dr. Chen, tall and intelligent-looking behind the ridiculous blue jumpsuit and booties, informed her. "We're keeping her in intensive care, just in case she needs immediate further care, but otherwise, she should make a slow but full recovery."

Morgan sighed audibly with relief. A smile cracked on her face for the first time that day. "When can I see her?"

"Well, you're welcome to sit with her if you'd like. She probably won't wake up for a while, but she's in a private room for now," Dr. Chen said. "It's probably a bit friendlier than the waiting room."

"Thanks." Morgan rose and followed him down the white linoleum corridor. The lights above their heads were long and bland, yet astonishingly bright. Quiet voices behind closed doors shared conversations in undertones. Monitoring beeps and sharp footsteps echoed in the silence. The whole place smelled of disinfectant and rubber gloves. Morgan didn't like it.

Max's room was small and square, with tasteless algae-green curtains to decorate the grimy window, a plain grey cupboard in the corner, and a stretcher-bed in the middle, with metal railings and headrest. Beside it was a simple maroon-cushioned chair. Dr. Chen nodded respectfully to her, and walked out. Morgan moved quietly bedside, her mouth pressed firmly into a line.

Max was hooked up to a ventilator, which was taped to her nose. It gurgled quietly every now and then next to the bed. A machine monitored her heart rate, beeping softly with each breath. Around one wrist was a patient identification tag; tacked to the end of the index finger of the other, a clamp-like thing Morgan didn't recognise. But it was the ghastly white of Max's face and the heavy shadowing beneath her eyes that pushed her over the edge.

Trying to fight the tears she knew would fall anyway, Morgan dragged the maroon chair closer to the bed and sat down, resting her elbows against the white blankets and gazing forlornly at her best friend. There is nothing scarier, she quickly decided, than seeing someone you love so much in such a state. The tears dripped down her cheeks, running haywire when she lay her head down.

"Fuck, Max," she whispered shakily. She sniffled audibly. "I'm sorry." She didn't know why those were the next words out of her mouth, only that she felt right saying them. She reached up with one hand to wipe at her face and thought about why she might have felt the impulse to apologise. Being the clever girl she was, it didn't take long.

"I'm sorry I've been such a shit friend. I should have taken you straight to hospital when you got that scratch – I knew that wasn't an ordinary cut. Now you're in surgery because of me… And–" she sucked in a shaky breath "–I'm sorry I've been so unreliable. I should have listened to you more. I know it's too late for apologies, and that you can't even hear me right now… but I'm apologising anyway."

The blanket under her head was getting warm; she could feel it against her damp cheek. A single tear wobbled on the tip of her nose and dripped off. She blinked slowly; her eyelids were getting heavy. She didn't even realise how tired she was. Now that she was comfortable, it was hitting hard. She hadn't slept properly in days, and it was catching up with her.

The consistent quiet beeping of Max's heart monitor eased her to sleep.

* * *

**March 12 – 20:11**

Morgan jolted awake to the sound of movement in the room. Her gaze swam groggily into focus; she blinked a few times to clear it. A nurse shuffled quietly on the other side of Max, checking the ventilator and heart monitor. She glanced over and smiled upon seeing Morgan conscious.

"Hi."

"Hi," Morgan croaked, her voice still thick with sleep. She cleared it and sat up, stifling a yawn. What time was it?

"Are you her sister?" the nurse asked. Morgan caught herself just before responding instinctively, wondering what the smartest answer would be. Would she be kicked out if they knew she wasn't immediate family?

"Practically," she said, smiling.

The nurse smiled back and consulted a clipboard of notes sitting on the grey mobile table at the foot of the bed. "Does she have any family members we can contact? There weren't many details listed on her admittance sheet."

"She does," Morgan said carefully, "we think. We're not entirely sure right now… I think I'm her family at the moment; we haven't heard from anyone for days."

The nurse nodded soberly in understanding. "We've had a few cases like that lately." She flipped through the pages on the clipboard and put it back down, smiling by way of farewell as she moved to the door.

"Oh, um," Morgan said, suddenly thinking of something. The nurse paused. "Is there any way we could turn the TV on?" She nodded to the small black box mounted in the top corner.

"Of course," the nurse replied. She crossed to the cupboard, taking out a dusty remote. "Here. I'll leave you to play with it." Smiling, she left. Morgan examined the remote for a moment, wondering if the TV set was so old that it wouldn't even turn on, and located what she hoped was the 'on' button. The screen faded slowly to life, displaying a fuzzy picture. She flicked around until it landed on the channel with the best reception (the colour was slightly off, but it was the clearest), and found that she'd caught the second half of a Nine News update. Glancing at Max, who was sleeping very soundly, she raised the volume.

"… holding more than sixty schools hostage Victoria-wide. Thousands of students are currently in confinement, their only means of contact with the outside world through text message. Desperate parents wait anxiously for their kids to be released. Until officials can storm the schools, there is no way of knowing the number of casualties."

Morgan stared wordlessly at the TV, imagining that her own expression must have mirrored that of the grave reporter. The report was being conducted in front of a public school somewhere – Morgan guessed one that was either safe, or deserted. She couldn't imagine the media would endanger themselves by going anywhere near one of the schools under siege. The TV flicked back to the newsroom.

"And continuing with our coverage of the Monster Crisis, the casualty count continues to climb as the reported number of creatures prowling our streets steadily rises. The Australian death toll hit six hundred and forty-nine this afternoon when a bus of students was attacked in the western suburbs of Sydney. Of the forty-eight passengers there were only four survivors. Three escaped with minor injuries; the fourth is currently in intensive care, in a critical condition.

"To international news now: the casualty count is increasing at an alarming rate, with some of the world's largest nations contributing the highest fatality counts. At the top of the list is the United States with almost two thousand deaths in six days. American President George W. Bush has urged that people remain calm, reassuring at a press conference this morning that the situation is, in fact, under control."

Morgan zoned out when the president's face appeared on the screen. As he talked in the background, she fought the nausea swelling in her stomach. Two thousand dead in America alone? In only _six days_? How could he possibly consider that 'under control'? She shot a glare at his fuzzy face. It was all good and well for him to try and calm everyone down from his plush leather armchair; he probably hadn't even left the Whitehouse yet. It wasn't like he was out on the streets with the rest of his country. Politicians, Morgan scowled. Useless, no matter which country you were in.

The newsreader's face reappeared. "Other nations contributing high death tolls include India, China–" Morgan smashed her finger down aggressively on the power button, and the screen flashed to nothingness. The quiet static crackling as it cooled was the only sound to break the heavy silence of the room. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, her breathing coming heavily.

She couldn't watch any more.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Centre** - Yeah, we spell it 're', not 'er'. Get used to our different spelling XD

**Melways** - Street directory/maps, like a big book. There's a 'Sydways' for Sydney and a 'Melways' for Melbourne. Don't know about any other Aussie places.

**Coxy's Big Break** - A travel show hosted by Coxy, an old Aussie semi-celebrity. He usually focuses on more local sights and hotels, like Victorian bed'n'breakfasts, etc.

**Colour** - Same deal as with 'centre'. Our English is English English, not American English.

* * *

**NOTES**

**Note! **Clock Corner Medical Centre is a real medical practice in Melbourne. I looked it up :) Box Hill Hospital is also real. There will be lots of actual places mentioned in this fic. It's really weird and different mixing fiction with reality O_O

**Note! **I'm terrible with American history and politics. George W. Bush, John F. Kennedy, Franklin Roosevelt, Ronald Reagan, Bill/Hillary Clinton, and Barack Obama are about the only big names I can remember. There are a couple of others, but they have little significance to me, 'cause I'm not an American :/ So, by my records, George W. Bush was still president in 2007 XD Well, he is in this fic, at least :P

**Note!** Did anyone notice that I slipped from past to present tense there? I love doing that. So sneaky XD

* * *

**A/N: There you go. Some worldly updates on the Monster Crisis. Haha, yup, I named it. And poor Morgan. Coming to terms at last, eh? It's not all rainbows and butterflies out there, sweetheart. What happens next? You'll find out in approximately three days, since it seems that's the habit I've got myself into :D**

**Review? :)**

**Until the next update.**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	10. Nine

**April 21, 2010.**

**A/N: Hullooo, fictioners! **

**Here's the next chapter for SfS -- and this one's for **Kyasarin Freakload **again. It amazes me that you love this story so much; you're such a dedicated reader. Thank you so much for your consistent support. It means so much -- you have no idea :)**

**So, not much happens in this chapter, but I think it's necessary filler; it sheds more light on the situation. Plus, there's more character involvement. But you'll have to read on to find out about that ;)**

**READ ON.**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- NINE -**

* * *

**March 14 – 12:35**

"To the youth of today: pay close attention to me. This is a war." Dr. Shirogane's piercing blue eyes couldn't have been any more serious. "These creatures have come to invade our homes, destroy our people, and stake claim to our world. We've beaten them back before, and we can beat them back again."

He paused for a moment to stare gravely into the camera. Morgan sighed slowly through her nose, drumming her fingernails impatiently against the bench.

"For weeks now, we've been undergoing the rapid process of creating an army. Just as before, we've created a weapon that can serve as an opponent for the aliens – that can destroy their creatures just as they destroy us. It's called the _Mew Project II_, and it's been broadcast worldwide. For those of you who remember, a Mew Mew is a specific kind of human being whose genes are compatible with those of an animal. After the initiation process, that human has the ability to change into an alternate form – their Mew form – and utilise the powers contributed by their animal counterpart."

He reached for something and held up a shining golden pendant identical to Morgan's.

"If you have received one of these, you have been chosen to be a part of this project. It's with my sincerest, deepest apologies that I tell you all that, from now, your lives will never be the same. You have no say in this; your genetics speak for you. The fate of the world lies in your hands – you are the only chance this planet has of survival. I beg you; use your powers to fight for humanity. Fight for those who cannot. You carry with you the hope of our race, and the only potential for its future."

He fingered the pendant for a second, gazing at it thoughtfully.

"This pendant contains the keys to unlocking the powers inside it. Without it, the genetic switch in your cells cannot be triggered, and you won't be able to transform. Be extremely careful with them, as there is only one pendant created for your genetic makeup. Only one contains DNA patterns identical to yours. If you lose it, it cannot be replaced.

"The pendant will respond to your calling. It is designed to detect changes in your body, and to react to them. However, it cannot work alone. Unless you actively summon the transformation and activate the changes yourself, its powers will be useless. You can't expect the pendant to do all the work for you." He took a deep breath, and looked straight into the camera. "With this message I am confessing my personal, direct involvement with the _Mew Projects _one and two. In fact, I admit right here and now that I am the head of both; that for the past decade I have been carrying out my father's research and experiments in secret. I accept full responsibility for the illegal tampering in human genetics, and for conducting illegal scientific research in uncertified facilities."

Morgan stared numbly at the screen. He was confessing? She didn't know whether to be impressed or dismayed. She settled for both. Surely he would be hauled in and arrested, now that he'd turned himself in…

"I refuse to give any other names, for reasons of confidentiality," Dr. Shirogane continued. "There is no telling now whether I'll be able to continue to provide online help. However, I want the youth all across the world to know that, even if you don't hear from me again, I'll still be doing everything in my power to assist you. I will continue to research our enemies and send information out to you, no matter what means I'll have to use. You're not alone in this battle – help will always be out there. Stay strong, and fight for what we stand for as human beings."

The video ended, and Morgan swallowed to try and unstick her dry throat. Her heart pulsing in her ears, she logged off the computer and left the internet café, hurrying dazedly back to Mackenzie's room, feeling like her thoughts were too much for her brain to handle.

* * *

**March 14 – 17:02**

"Why do they feed us at five?" Mackenzie complained weakly, mustering a feeble glare which she directed at the steaming tray of food beside her bed. "I'm not even hungry."

Her breathing was laboured and shallow; it seemed to take her a great deal of effort to talk. Morgan nudged her legs over and made herself comfortable at the end of the bed. She dragged the portable table towards her and examined Mackenzie's dinner. It looked like meatloaf and steamed vegetables – tasteless steamed vegetables. She raised one eyebrow in distaste and picked up the fork.

"Sit up a bit, if you can," she said.

Mackenzie pulled a face. "I can feed myself."

"You can't even lift your arm," Morgan argued. "Let me help you. You need to eat _something _or your body won't be able to recover."

"Can't they reheat it later?" Mackenzie whispered, her head drooping a little. She was getting sleepy again. Morgan frowned; she'd only been awake about ten minutes.

"Max, you'll be _sleeping_ later. Come on, stay awake for a little bit longer. I have important stuff to tell you."

"Later…" Mackenzie muttered dozily. Seconds later, she was out like a light, breathing peacefully again. Morgan sighed and put the fork back down. Mackenzie was sleeping a heck of a lot. In fact, she slept most of the day away, and had to be woken for meals and toilet breaks. Morgan hadn't spoken to her properly since before she was admitted.

Sure, she'd had pretty major surgery to close the wound in her back, but that was almost three days ago now, and by Morgan's estimations, she should have slept the surgery off by now, and be recovering. In fact, she should be up and about, moving around and getting stronger. But she seemed to grow weaker each day. She was still white as snow. Sometimes her skin took on a sickly yellowish tinge. Her hair was limp and dull, and she had the strength of a worm. Actually, Morgan thought, a worm probably had _more_ strength; at least it could wriggle itself away. Mackenzie couldn't even lift her head.

With a disappointed sigh, Morgan got up off the bed and went for one of her now-routine strolls around the hospital. She'd caught up on all of Dr. Shirogane's recent updates, and the news was just depressing, so she crossed them off as ways to kill time. Shutting Max's door behind her, she peered down the corridors to her right and left, selected the left, and wandered off.

Morgan had never been a fan of hospitals, purely because she'd always felt that they symbolised sickness and death. Plus they were generally unfriendly places, and they smelled funny. But she disliked them even more now that everywhere she looked she saw the same thing. There were Mackenzie's all over the place. Pale skin, gaunt faces, bruised shadows under eyes…

Morgan stood behind the glass windows to a large room housing eight young people – all about her age – in identical white-sheeted beds. They were all sleeping. They all looked awful. The fact that they seemed to show the same symptoms as Max struck Morgan as odd and significant at the same time. From where she stood, it appeared they were all suffering from the same thing. But Max wasn't suffering from _anything_; she'd had her surgery, she'd been treated, she was on medications for recovery. From the looks of things, these kids were, too. But, like Max, they didn't look like they were making much progress in the way of recovering. Morgan wondered briefly how long they'd been in the ward for.

She turned and leaned her back against the glass, sighing heavily and tilting her head back. She closed her eyes for a moment. Everything was just so messed up. How had their currently shaken up, twisted lives landed them in a _hospital_? She ran her hands over her tired face and through her hair. Ugh, she needed a shower. Her hair felt _dead._ Maybe the nurses would let her use the shower in the bathroom off Max's room.

Morgan opened her eyes again, wincing in the bright light, and looked around. It was very quiet; the place was almost deserted, except for a kid sitting on the plastic seats in the corner, looking like Morgan felt. She gazed at him quietly for a moment, wondering what he'd gone through and why he was in the hospital, too. Then he shifted and glanced up, and she recognised him.

"Daniel?"

He looked back at her, looking at her more closely. Recognition passed over his face. "Morgan Reid. Well, fuck!"

"Charming," Morgan said dryly, her voice echoing a little in the corridor as she walked over to join him. "Clearly, you're just as delightful as you were in primary school." She flopped down beside him, lounging tiredly in the uncomfortable plastic chair. "What are you doing here?"

"Minding my mate's little brother," Daniel Palmer replied. Morgan examined him out of the corner of her eye. He was a mess. His clothes were dirty and torn in places, his face was grimy – one cheek sported a nasty half-healed graze; the other eye a yellowing purple bruise – and worn, and he smelled something shocking. He jerked his head at the room with the glass windows. "He's in there. Pretty sick, the poor kid."

Morgan was silent; she didn't exactly know what to say. She crossed her legs and made herself more comfortable. "What's wrong with him?"

"Bitten by one of those fucking monsters," Daniel muttered darkly. "His arm's pretty gross."

"Oh, poor kid," Morgan sympathised. Her own arm tingled as she thought about it, and she shuddered. Daniel glanced at her with keen, misty green eyes.

"You look like shit," he commented.

Morgan scowled at him. "You smell worse."

Daniel mustered a humourless grin, which quickly faded. "I overhead some of the doctors talking yesterday," he said, looking away again. "They reckon the kids that were attacked by the monsters don't stand a chance."

"A chance at what?" Morgan demanded, her heart leaping into her throat. She could feel it suddenly beating faster. Her sneaking suspicions were telling her she wasn't going to like what was coming at all.

Daniel shrugging nonchalantly. "Survival."

"What, so everyone in that ward is just going to die?" Morgan said loudly, her voice rising with fear. That couldn't be true. It _couldn't _be. Max had had surgery; she was going to recover. The doctors had said so themselves. Hadn't they? Morgan wracked her brain frantically for Dr. Chen's exact words. He'd said she 'should make a' – what was it? – 'slow, but full recovery'. _Should_, not _would_. Morgan was suddenly feeling very sick.

Daniel shrugged again. "Probably."

His indifference was starting to irritate her. Morgan sat up straighter in her seat. Max couldn't die. She was Max; her _best friend_. She was going to live forever, because she'd _always _been there, and Morgan simply couldn't comprehend the possibility of a life without Mackenzie in it. It was the same concept as with her grandmother. Her grandma had been around forever, and she would live on forever. She would outlive everyone.

Morgan had never had a very good grasp on the concept of death.

"From what?" she demanded.

"There's no confirmation," Daniel went on tonelessly, "but the doctors think the monsters are poisonous. I heard one of them saying that the patients' immune systems were being attacked by something they couldn't diagnose – something with the same characteristics as cancer. You know, eating away at the cells from the inside, sort of thing? They were talking about platelets and blood cell regeneration. They've been trying all sorts of treatments, but at the moment, there's apparently no cure."

Morgan's head whirled. She felt like she was going to be sick. Or cry. Or break something. Or all of the above. Daniel glanced at her.

"What're you doing here, anyway?"

Without a word, Morgan got up and stalked away on shaky legs. She couldn't stand any more conversation with him. He was too pessimistic. What he was saying was just too scary. And it wasn't true. The doctors weren't sure of _anything_ at the moment. Max might make a full recovery. No, she _would _make a full recovery. If there was something that seriously wrong with her, they'd have told Morgan.

Daniel watched her storm away around the corner, wondering vaguely what her problem was. He dismissed it a moment later and turned back to staring aimlessly at the wall. His world had been too shaken up for him to care much about other people anymore.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Mate** - Not the 'let's-partner-forever-and-reproduce-young' kind of mate. In Australia, your mate is your pal, a good friend, etc. Mostly between guys.

**'Look like shit'** - Just another example of our floral language. Everyone uses it worldwide, but it's really been integrated into daily Australian conversation. So charming. We say 'look like shit' instead of 'look like crap'. It's 'look like shit', and 'feel like crap'. XD

* * *

**A/N: You know, I still don't know why I brought Daniel Palmer back into the story at this point. Reflecting back, it really doesn't make sense XD' But oh wells, he can't be removed now -- it just wouldn't work.**

**Anyway! So... Morgan's run into Max's old school bully. D: What the... ? And what's with his creepy stories? Surely it can't be true. Max can't be dying! O_O**

**Well, you'll just have to wait and see. Three days, people -- that's all :)**

**Reviews are love.**

**Until the next update.**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	11. Ten

**April 25, 2010.**

**A/N: Happy ANZAC day, SfS readers!**

**So, here's chapter ten. This chapter is one of my favourites, I'll have you know. I really love Morgan in it XD**

**A short but important announcement: updates for SfS will be less frequent for a while, because I'm writing three or four fics at once. Yes, I am a silly fooligan who is overloading on FF projects. Such is life. So SfS will still be updated - don't worry, I'm definitely NOT abandoning it. There just won't be new chapters every three days anymore. I don't think I can write that fast XD'**

**(I hope Chiharu isn't reading this O_O')**

**So, this story is really for **Kyasarin Freakload**, since she adores it so much, and is so dedicated a reader/reviewer. Really, **Kya**, it's your love for SfS that has kept me writing it and updating so often. So this one's for you :) Thank you.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- TEN -**

* * *

**March 15 – 16:17**

It happened while Morgan was sitting anxiously by Max's bed, one knee bouncing habitually as she worried. The more she'd thought about what Daniel Palmer had told her yesterday, the more she freaked out about it. What if it _was _true? Max would need serious help – and soon. Morgan wracked her memory for the last time she'd woken up, coming to the conclusion that it was before dinner the day before. She'd slept for almost twenty-four hours straight.

Things were not looking good, even if she _wasn't _poisoned.

A few stray, cold tears escaped, pattering lightly down her cheeks, and she'd just brushed them away irritably when there was a torrential stream of crashes from above. It sounded like someone had just dropped several cars on the roof from a great height. The lights flickered violently, then went out. An eerie feeling washed through the hospital. In Max's room, Morgan instinctively stiffened, her heart throbbing in her stomach as she strained to listen for noise.

The silence was scarier than the ear-splitting crashes; it was filled with suspense. Something was about to happen – something huge.

About twenty seconds later, the screaming started from above. Muffled voices – lots of voices – echoed down to the floors below, and Morgan got up from her chair, heart hammering. The noises above grew louder, screams mixing with crashes, and weird shrieks that didn't sound human. The terror bled down slowly; now it was louder – it had spread to the floor above, and was no doubt going to keep coming. Trembling, Morgan closed a hand around the doorknob, shutting her eyes tightly and steeling her nerves. She forced herself to wrench it open before fear got the better of her.

The same inhuman shrieks rang out – much louder now; the walls vibrated. When they subsided they left a strange ringing in Morgan's ears. The screaming started on their floor, and she peeked out timidly. Three enormous, mutant creatures – birds? Magpies? – were emerging from the fourth floor staircase, their knife-sharp talons leaving gigantic scrapes in the linoleum. The few staff and patients in the corridor scattered in terror, diving for the nearest doors. The magpies shrieked piercingly and stalked after them, slamming their huge beaks into the floor as they tried to snap them up, leaving alarmingly deep indents in the tiles.

Morgan slammed the door shut, flicking the lock over.

Okay, now what? She glanced frantically around the room. The monsters were storming the hospital, and they were probably going to kill everyone. Max had seen people die at her school – the creatures were mirthless. Their chances of survival were rapidly decreasing; they'd hit zero unless they got out of the hospital _fast. _Who knew how many mutant freak animals there were? She chewed her lip desperately, staring at Max. If she didn't get them out, they would die.

The crashing was getting louder. The booming footsteps of the oversized monsters were telling of the increasing amount of them stalking the corridors. There were too many to count. The screaming was louder. Windows were crashing behind the door.

"Okay, Max," Morgan said, astonished at how difficult it was to talk through her violently trembling. "I'm gonna get us outta here. We're gonna move now – so apologies in advance if I hit any bumps or hurt you at all. I really don't mean it."

As she talked, Morgan was busily checking all the machines Max was hooked up to. From the looks of things, it was all going to be pretty transportable, but it was going to be difficult. The ventilator, for instance, was plugged into an electrical socket. So was the heart monitor. But Max was definitely breathing – they could probably go without those two for now. While it would be handy to have her best friend's heart beat monitored while they were trying to escape, so she knew, at least, that she was still alive, Morgan didn't think it was entirely necessary.

Praying nothing terrible would happen, she reached down, heart in mouth, and yanked the plugs out of the socket. The beeping stopped. Max didn't even twitch. One eyelid fluttered for a second. Morgan let out a sigh of relief. So far, so good. Turning off the ventilator hadn't killed Max. That was a promising start.

She grabbed Mackenzie's neatly folded clothes from the cupboard, dumping them on the bed, yanked up the metal arm rails to keep her from rolling out, and was unlocking the wheels to move when there was a very foreboding, sharp click from behind her. She froze, heart beating wildly, and whipped around just as the door burst open, slamming against the wall and bouncing back violently. A sturdy hand raised and abruptly stopped it from closing again. In the darkness Morgan couldn't make out the newcomer's features; only that he – it was definitely a he – was tall and broad-shouldered, with a disturbingly authoritative presence. She instinctively took a step backwards. Whoever this guy was, her instincts were warning her against him.

"Well, well," he said, in an eerily soft voice, void of emotion. Chills ran down her spine. "What have we here?"

He took a step into the room. Morgan took another step backwards. She moved instinctively closer to Max. No matter what happened, she had to protect her. _Fight for those who cannot_, Dr. Shirogane had said. And something was telling her that she was going to have to fight if they wanted to get out of here.

"What do you want?" she stammered bravely, wishing her voice was steadier.

The figure chuckled softly.

"Who are you?" Morgan tried again. Not that she cared; she just wanted to get out. Stalling for time while she tried to think of a plan was her only plan of action right now.

"Inconsequential," the guy replied. He stepped further into the room. "Hiding in here was never going to save you, little Mew. I'd let our pets destroy you, but I think I'd rather have the pleasure of doing it myself this time."

Morgan's heart froze. He was going to kill them. She was about to die. Holy fuck.

"Please," she murmured weakly, her knees locking so hard it was painful.

He laughed harshly. "Begging for mercy? Really? Pathetic. We were worried when that crazy scientist created more of you, but you're disgustingly weak. This whole mission is so easy it's almost disappointing."

He raised one arm, and Morgan watched as a glowing red orb grew slowly from his fingertips. It was an absurdly fascinating process. Like a large bubble was swelling from his hand – an extension of his skin… a deformed growth. She realised soon after, however, that what he was summoning was another Chimera Anima – but the eerie iridescent red was somehow much more worrying than the standard golden ones she'd gotten used to. She didn't know how she knew, but there was something much more sinister about this one.

In the faint red glow, the intruder's dark face was thrown into weak light. His eyes shone like luminous silvery-turquoise, catlike and strangely enchanting. Morgan found she couldn't look away. A moment later, the Chimera Anima was floating away from his fingertips, the red glow shifting and throwing his face back into shadow.

"You see that web in the corner?" he said, almost conversationally. Morgan had no idea what he was talking about. "Well, I suppose you can't; it's being blocked. If that web wasn't there, you might have perhaps stood a tiny chance."

He turned and spoke directly to the floating orb. "Fusion."

It all happened very fast. One moment, the red Chimera was hovering in front of Morgan, the next, it was somehow behind the TV. Red light exploded, and there was an epic crash as the TV was ripped from the wall. Morgan shrieked and threw herself to the side; the TV smashed into a wreckage of electrical parts on the ground, emitting several static zaps and sparks of light, and a tendril of acrid smoke.

Open-mouthed with shock, Morgan slowly looked up, and immediately backed away, straight into the chair, which overturned loudly. She stumbled, trying to regain her footing whilst keeping an eye on the swelling daddy-long-legs in the corner. Already it was the size of a small dog. She listened to its many legs groaning under pressure as it tried to stay confined to its corner, which it had largely outgrown. The poor thing probably hadn't even wanted to be found, and now it was being forced to become a vicious monster.

Her sympathy was short-lived, though. It snapped its fangs threateningly, stretching two spindly legs towards her. She dodged one and moved to Max's side, the urge to protect her best friend swelling inside her. If the beast got Max, she had no chance. There was no way Morgan was letting that happen – not when she knew she'd been handed the ability to save her. She reached into her pocket, pulling out the golden pendant, which was unnaturally warm in her fingers.

As the spider clumsily clambered down from the wall, taking up far too much of the tiny room as it advanced towards them, Morgan held the pedant tightly in her hands, hugging it close to her chest. This tiny little charm was their only chance.

"Please," she whispered desperately, feeling utterly ridiculous and foolish, and not caring. "_Please_ help me."

Furious golden light exploded from the pendant, engulfing her, and the words rose to the tip of her tongue without her consciously thinking them. She heard her own voice shout, confidently and clearly, "Metamorphosis!" and then a glorious warmth was cascading through her body, swirling around her in a delightful, comforting embrace. It was like she was being washed by pure joy; it filled her heart and her mind, filling her with hope and faith, and determination. She was falling through a chasm of bliss, touching only starbursts of elation.

When she felt the warmth draining away like a gentle breeze, and the room swam back into focus around her, she felt strong and revitalised. The enormous spider was still edging towards her but she was no longer afraid of it. Why should she fear it when she could kill it? She'd been given the power to overcome monsters like this – she could _feel _the powerful energy coursing like electricity through her veins as the new genes in her body reared enthusiastically. Her animal counterpart was ready, and she was ready. This was their fight, and they were going to win.

"Banksia blades!" she summoned without conscious thought, and in her hands materialised a set of lethal-looking daggers. She gripped them tightly, already seeing in her mind the exact way in which she would use them. It was too easy. "Reborn Wallaby Strike!"

She darted forward, preparing for the blow. She hacked easily through an advancing leg, ignoring the foul-smelling mucus that spurted from the gash, pushing forward, slicing her way through another two until she was directly underneath the spider's body. With a war cry, she thrust upwards, crossing her arms as her blades pierced the abdomen. The mutant spider gave a horrible squeal of pain. Yanking the blades back over each other in a large X that sliced open the spider's underside, Morgan wrenched them back and retreated to avoid the steaming mucus-like blood. It hissed as it pooled on the floor, eating away at the linoleum like acid.

Her chest heaving, Morgan watched as the spider's legs shook and caved; the monster collapsed on itself. With a long wail, it shimmered with glistening white light and exploded, spraying the room with foul spider guts. Trying not to gag, Morgan stared, unable to look away, as the red Chimera Anima – all that was left of the awful creature – trembled violently and burst like a balloon, disintegrating into nothingness.

For a long moment, Morgan stood in the stench and silence, trying to come to terms with the reality. She had just mutilated a monster.

A second later, she whirled, expecting another attack. But the mysterious dark intruder was gone. Strangely, Max had been left unharmed. Aside from the spider innards splattered across the white blanket, she was otherwise perfectly fine. Morgan couldn't understand why that man – he was obviously their enemy – hadn't killed her while she'd been distracted with the spider. She imagined it would have been only too easy for him. She pushed the thought from her mind, relieved that nothing had happened to Max.

"Okay," she muttered firmly, more to herself than to Mackenzie. "Let's get outta here."

Taking hold of the railing, Morgan caught sight of the dusty-orange arm-warmers encasing her wrists. What the fuck? She froze and looked down at her body. Oh, Jesus. She was clad in what appeared to be an orange bikini top and a pair of matching short-shorts, with elfin-like heeled boots, elbow-to-wrist arm-warmers to accessorise, and a kerchief-like bandana around her neck.

What was more, she felt significantly imbalanced. Looking over her shoulder, she discovered she'd sprouted a sturdy, curved tail – a kangaroo tail. Which could only mean… Yep, she had ears, too. She brushed them curiously for a moment, revelling in her sudden acquirement of kangaroo parts. Then Max shifted a little in her hospital bed, and Morgan's attention was dragged back to more pressing matters.

She grabbed the railing steadily and wheeled the bed out into the corridor. The hospital was a mess. Walls had been blasted out and scattered across the floor, glass from windows had sprayed all over the place. There was blood smeared on the walls, fire alarms wailing, and people shouting and crying. At least the power was back on. But Morgan couldn't focus on any of that. She had to get Max out. Somehow, she had to find a way to transport her – hospital bed and all – somewhere else. She had no idea where she was meant to go. Another hospital, maybe? What if _all_ the hospitals had been hit?

She didn't have time to worry about it now. Right now, her biggest concern was just getting her out, for a start. There were probably still other Chimera Anima around, and she didn't think she could beat them all by herself.

Morgan manoeuvred the stretcher bed down the destroyed corridor, making for the elevator she prayed was still working. As she neared it, a door burst open, and she instinctively skidded to a halt, preparing to summon her blades again, which she noted had, at some point, mysteriously vanished. Three humans stumbled out into the corridor – one, like her, was a Mew. They stared at each other in surprise.

"Morgan?" the Mew asked, looking at her attire in what could only be perverted appreciation.

"Holy shit!" Morgan exclaimed in realisation, her scowl breaking. "Daniel?!"

A magpie shriek echoed sharply behind them. Daniel glanced down at the bed, his expression suddenly shocked as he recognised who was in it.

"Fuck! Is that _Mackenzie_?"

Daniel's companion, a shorter boy with plaster settled in his fair hair, shifted his hold on the skinny, limp boy in his arms. The boy was wearing a hospital gown, like Max.

"I think we should talk later," he said, struggling a little under the smaller boy's weight. "Let's just move."

They made it to the elevator and crammed inside, all of them fidgeting impatiently as it descended. Daniel kept glancing down at Mackenzie, who slept on ignorantly, and looking away again, as though he couldn't quite come to terms with the fact that it was really her.

"Anyone got a plan?" Morgan asked hopefully. "'Cos I have no idea how to get outta here."

The doors opened to the ground floor, and the wailing of ambulances met their ears. Daniel looked at them with something like elation dawning in his eyes, and Morgan knew he'd thought of something.

"Follow me," he said, taking off almost at a run. "I think I've got an idea."

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Magpie** - A black and white bird. One of Australia's AFL teams was nicknamed after them, because their colours are black and white. They're called the Collingwood Magpies, or just 'the Pies'. They suck XD

**Banksia** - an Australian native plant. Eh. Look it up. Too hard to explain :P

**Wallaby** - a smaller relative of the Kangaroo. Wallabies are much cuter :3

* * *

**A/N: Oh lord, what on earth could Daniel's idea be? Crazy or legitimate? Who was that sinister enemy, where did he go, and what was so scary about his red Chimera? And Morgan's finally transformed! :D She's gotten in touch with her Mew side. at last :) Where will the adventure go next? Well, you'll find out next chapter, won't you? :P**

**Thanks everyone who's been keeping up with the story so far. You guys mean a lot.**

**Reviews are love, remember.**

**Until the next update!**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	12. Eleven

**May 6, 2010.**

**A/N: Hey, SfS readers!**

**Sorry about the late update for this fic. I think I'll generally update my stories weekly; on Monday morning for me, so Sunday night for you :) Keep your eyes posted!**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter! Now y'all can find out what Daniel's plan is ;)**

**Thanks for reviewing!**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- ELEVEN -**

* * *

**March 15 – 17:44**

"Where are we going?" Morgan asked. She winced as the ambulance jolted around violently. The contents rattled loudly as Daniel hurtled along, the accelerator pressed all the way to the floor. They were probably travelling at about a hundred kilometres an hour. She grabbed Max's bed as they hit a bump and glared into the cab. "Do you mind? According to you, people are dying in this ambulance! Slow down or you'll kill us all!"

"Shut up," Daniel snapped, his fists curled tensely around the wheel. "You think I drive these things all the time? It's a fucking ambulance!"

"Take your foot off the accelerator!" Morgan shot back. "If you lose control of the wheel, none of us will survive the crash."

Matt, the blonde boy, sat beside his brother Terence's limp form, watching him jerk around anxiously. He was quiet; Morgan had hardly heard him say a word since they'd stolen the ambulance. It hadn't been difficult. There had been so much going on – so many doctors and nurses running around hectically – that convincing one of the paramedics they'd been instructed to transfer Mackenzie wasn't difficult at all. He'd taken one look at the stretcher and rushed off to prepare an ambulance. Hijacking it while he'd gone off to find the supervisor had been too easy. The keys were already in the ignition; Daniel had simply had to hit the accelerator and drive away.

But now, hurtling like a rocket down the road, Morgan was more than a little concerned. What was the use in their brilliant plan to find another hospital if they weren't even going to make it there? They'd need a coroner at this rate.

"For fuck's sake!" Morgan cried angrily. "_Slow down_!"

Astonishingly, Daniel obeyed. He lifted his foot from the accelerator and the ambulance immediately cut speed. Morgan's heart returned to her chest, and she turned to look at Mackenzie. She looked terrible. Clearly, moving her around wasn't doing her quickly deteriorating health much good.

"Do you really think they're going to die?" Matt asked, looking around for a moment. Morgan said nothing.

"I only told you what I heard," Daniel replied shortly, though it wasn't much of an answer. Matt turned back to gaze forlornly at his brother. They didn't speak again for a long while.

* * *

**March 15 – 18:18**

Morgan stared out the window in frustration. They were stuck on Batman Avenue in the outskirts of the city, in bumper-to-bumper traffic. They'd been crawling along for the last twenty minutes. Daniel had managed to fiddle around with the ambulance gadgets and had discovered a radio that gave details about other ambulances and hospitals.

Since conversation between the trio had dried up, listening to what was happening elsewhere in the eastern suburbs was a relieving break of tension. Plus, they'd discovered that Box Hill Hospital hadn't been the only hospital attacked. According to the most recent updates, Monash, Maroondah, Austin and Casey had all been hit hard. The Angliss and St. John of God hadn't been forgotten either.

But, oddly, the Alfred had been skipped. It was the biggest hospital, located in central Melbourne, with top-rate doctors and surgeons, and excellent facilities. Why it had been left out was nothing short of suspicious, but considering they were running out of options, the wayward ambulance hijackers had set course for it.

And now they were stuck in a messy traffic jam that seemed to go on for miles.

Daniel grumbled and drilled his fingers against the steering wheel. Matt gazed gloomily at the golden orbs drifting by. Right now, the Chimera Anima were floating faster than they were driving.

"If there was an attack right now," Morgan said, for lack of anything else to say, "we'd be fucked."

"Shut the fuck up!" Daniel snapped. "It's not my fault we're stuck in this bullshit. Whose decision was it to go the Alfred? Every man and his fucking dog is obviously trying to get to the Alfred!"

"You didn't _have_ to drive us there," Morgan pointed out. "You're the one behind the wheel. Ultimately, it was_ your _decision where we went. You chose the Alfred. Besides, asshole, these people aren't trying to get to the hospital. Use your fucking eyes."

Daniel examined a few of the closest cars more carefully. Most of them were packed to the windows with stuff. Some had cases and bags strapped to the roof.

"They're trying to get out of Melbourne," Morgan explained. "They're heading for the freeway."

"We just got _off _the freeway!" Daniel moaned. "They're fucking idiots!"

"The freeway was packed, too, remember?" Morgan replied. "Maybe they thought it would be faster this way."

"Well it's not, is it?" Daniel growled irrationally.

"Getting angry won't solve anything," Morgan scolded. "Just drive. We'll get there when we get there."

"We're not ever gonna fucking get there if these _fucking cars don't move_!" he bellowed out the window.

"HEY!" Morgan yelled. He'd gone way too far. "If you wanna make something happen, use your fucking brain. We've got resources, idiot! Turn on the lights and sirens! We're in a goddamn _ambulance_, for God's sake! Ambulances have priority!"

Seconds later, lights and sirens blaring, the stolen ambulance crept slowly along, half on the footpath and half on the road. Cars edged out of the way to give them room. Daniel drove silently, staring stonily ahead and refusing to acknowledge Morgan's presence. But Morgan didn't care. At least they were moving. And Daniel didn't even make her list of things to be concerned about. As soon as they got to the hospital, she was splitting and taking care of Max. The others could go do whatever the fuck they wanted, for all she cared.

* * *

**March 15 – 19:01**

Holy shit. There were so many ambulances shoved around the emergency department entrance it was going to be more than impossible to try and squeeze their way in. Morgan was already thinking of alternatives.

"Park on the street," she commanded. "We'll sneak in."

It took a bit of effort and a lot of bickering to get Max's stretcher out of the ambulance and onto sturdy ground without her accidentally tumbling out of it. Matt stood by, watching anxiously with Terry in his arms as Morgan and Daniel snapped hotly at each other. Morgan resisted the strong urge to furiously swat at the Chimera hovering around like bobbing lanterns and focused on wheeling Max towards the ED entrance.

Once again, lying their way inside was no trouble.

"We've been sent from Box Hill," Morgan said in her most hopeful voice. "Please, we really need help. These two are really sick."

They looked around, impressed, as they were admitted and led down a nicely furnished corridor. It was nice and warm inside, and smelled of fresh flowers. Calming music was playing softly in the background. A receptionist smiled at them as they walked past. Max and Terry were set up in a room with two other kids in similar conditions, and Morgan, Daniel and Matt were shown to the cafeteria; a big, comfortably stuff room that smelled beyond delicious. Immediately, the three realised how starving they were, and sat down to fill their rumbling stomachs.

"What happens now?" Matt asked, sipping a can of Coke. Morgan didn't reply. How could she tell them she was ditching them now and didn't need their help anymore? It was hardly a way to thank them. Not that Matt had really done much, and Daniel was such an ass that he really didn't deserve thanks anyway...

"We wait for them to help Mac and Terry, and when they're better, we get the hell outta here and find somewhere safe to hide," Daniel replied, almost savagely. Morgan glanced at him. He'd thought that far ahead already?

"Where are we supposed to go?" she asked, for curiosity's sake.

"I've got cousins out near Ballarat. We can crash with them until it's safe to come home. Everyone says the country's safest right now."

Not a bad plan, Morgan thought, considering it. But it wasn't happening. Max hated Daniel Palmer; he'd been bullying her since primary school. Morgan was enough of a considerate friend to not put her through her personal hell. Especially since she was – fingers crossed – about to come out of medical hell. She probably wouldn't be able to cope with going from one hell straight to another.

They finished their meals and headed back to the room, but had only been there for a short time when a nurse came in behind them and promptly ushered them out.

"Visiting hours are over," she told them firmly, frowning as they tried to argue their way back in. None of them had factored being kicked out into their plans. "Come back tomorrow morning. You can see patients between ten and twelve, and six and eight."

"But–" Morgan tried, but she was quickly shut down.

"Out," the nurse said, shutting the door and locking it behind them. She stared them down until they conceded defeat and walked out of the ward.

"Fucking bitch," Daniel muttered angrily. "Where are we supposed to go?"

"We could find a hotel nearby," Morgan suggested doubtfully.

"Have you got three hundred bucks to pay for that?" Daniel asked smartly. "Otherwise, we're fucked."

"My auntie used to live in an apartment block not far from here," Matt offered, before Morgan could retort. "She doesn't live there anymore, but I remember where it is."

Morgan wasn't exactly sure what he was getting at, but she glanced at Daniel and imagined her expression mirrored his. Considering, brainstorming, scheming…

"Okay," she said, shrugging. "Lead on."

* * *

**March 15 – 19:37**

"It's locked, guys," Morgan said, sighing from her seat on the low brick wall. Daniel and Matt were examining the electric door to see if they could force it open. She rolled her eyes. "It's getting dark. Let's just try somewhere else."

Matt glanced at her and said nothing. Daniel completely ignored her. Morgan sighed huffily through her nose and got up. Boys. They could be so idiotically stubborn sometimes. Turning her back on the pair, she stalked off to circle the apartment block. May as well stretch her legs; she'd been sitting there for fifteen minutes, and she was getting itchy feet.

She smacked at a mosquito that tried to land on her arm, scratching her itchy bites irritably. For some reason, mosquitoes loved her. They always bit her more than other people. She was allergic, too, so if she scratched, her skin would blow up. If she didn't get inside soon, she could get bitten so much that she'd get sick. It had happened before. She slapped at another, successfully squishing it against her skin, and looked up in savage victory, at whom, she would never know. But she was glad she did, because she caught sight of something very rewarding.

"Give up, guys. There's an emergency exit 'round the back."

The trio climbed the metal staircase in silence; Daniel annoyed that Morgan had found a way in, Morgan smug, and Matt tired. All three of them were exhausted, but they dragged themselves up the few floor of stairs anyway, the thought of somewhere warm and dry to sleep urging them on.

At last they reached the door at the top, and Daniel pushed it open. Inside, the landing was dark and gloomy; concrete floor and brick walls, with a sole elevator shaft. They were on the fifth and top floor. Their footsteps, although quiet as possible, echoed around the cavernous space. There were six doors.

Daniel and Morgan glanced at each other and simultaneously took out their pendants, just in case there were Chimera Anima anywhere, and the pair led the checking of the apartments. All were locked and silent. They descended to the fourth floor, taking the stairs at the end of the wide hall. Two were completely empty; four were, like the others, locked and silent.

It was on the third floor that they found a silent apartment with an unlocked door. Glancing between each other, they passed the unspoken agreement to open it. Morgan stepped back, her fist closed tightly around her pendant. Daniel gripped the handle, took a deep breath, and–

Something heavy hit the back of Morgan's head without warning, and she barely had time to register the splitting pain and cry out before she crumpled, pitched abruptly into blind unconsciousness.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Batman Avenue - **a busy, well-known street leading into Melbourne; the city. No, i'ts not named after the DC Batman XD

**Ballarat** - a rural town in country Victoria. It's a few hours (maybe three?) from the city.

* * *

**NOTES**

**Note!** All the hospitals listed are actual medical centres in Victoria. Go me and my having-worked-in-medical-for-three-years knowledge! :D

* * *

**A/N: Oh no! What's happened to Morgan? Is she going to be okay? D:**

**Well, you'll just have to wait and see, ne?**

**Reviews are love!**

**Until the next update!**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	13. Twelve

**May 13, 2010.**

**A/N: Hey, Solacers XD**

**So, thanks for sticking with me with this story :) I know the updates are slow now; once a week to be precise. I'm sorry about that, but I just don't have as much time to fritter writing chapters for all the stories I'm stupidly trying to juggle at the moment. So thanks for bearing with me. I appreciate it :)**

**Something that made me laugh: **

'... asking to know when Max comes back and bah I hope Morgan dies.' -- **Keiichiro-San's review to chapter 11**.

**Really, guys? You want Morgan to _DIE_? That's kinda sucky, 'cause she's sorta the main character right now :/ ****You know what, I'm putting a poll in my profile. Head over and have your say; if you think Morgan should be killed off, or if you think she should stick around 'til the end. I'm interested to know what you guys think :)**

**Also! If you're interested, I've added SfS' theme (song) to my profile. Check it out :)**

**Thanks a bunch, and enjoy the chapter :D**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- TWELVE -**

* * *

**March 16 – 11:08**

When Morgan dragged herself into consciousness, the first thing she registered was the thumping pain at the back of her head. It was blinding; she could hardly see straight. But she sat through the wave of pain until it gradually passed, and slowly opened her eyes to gauge her surroundings.

She was in a room of some sort, lying – no, sitting – on the carpet. It was basically empty, except for a pile of blankets in the corner. Sunlight streamed through the window across her face. She winced and moved her head out of the ray. Pain shattered through her skull again, and she cursed.

Something – someone? – shifted behind her, and she started, trying to look around. That was when she realised she couldn't move her arms, because they were tightly bound. She was sitting back-to-back with someone, but she had no idea who.

"… What the fuck, man?" Oh, it was Daniel.

"What happened?" Morgan moaned. She felt Daniel shift again, no doubt going through the motions of discovering that he was tightly bound, like she just had.

"The fuck is this?" he demanded groggily, referring, she supposed, to their sticky predicament. She winced at the volume of his voice. It felt like there were bells ringing endlessly in her ears.

"Do you mind not moving, talking or swearing?" Morgan moaned. "I've got a splitting headache."

"Where's Matt?" Daniel asked, ignoring her request. Morgan glanced around. The pile of blankets moved, and she realised it wasn't actually a pile of blankets, but was, in fact, Matt's body lying on the floor. He, too, was tied up with a rope.

"Over there," Morgan said, knowing Daniel couldn't see for himself. "He's fine."

"Fuck… my head," Daniel swore. "What were we hit with?"

"A fire extinguisher," a new voice replied. Morgan and Daniel snapped their heads, looking around sharply. Both groaned in pain as their heads swam.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Daniel demanded promptly. "You could've killed us."

The person ignored them and walked in. Morgan looked around again when her head stopped throbbing. A skinny girl in camo-print three-quarters and a tight black tank top stood before them, her long, thin red hair tied into two low pigtails. She'd pulled a yellow and black cap sporting the _Richmond Football Club_ logo down over her head. The eyes beneath the peak were sharp and untrusting.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "How did you know about this place, and who sent you here?"

"Sent us?" Morgan inquired. "We got kicked out of the hospital and came here for refuge."

"The hospital? The Alfred?" the girl said, and her face scrunched up angrily. Morgan sensed that the answer was not a good one, judging by the change in the girl's expression.

"Hang on," she said hastily. "We had no idea there were people living here. We just came because Matt – the kid over there – had an aunt who used to live here; we're not local. Two of our friends are at the Alfred, and they kicked us out because of visiting hours. We had nowhere else to go. Honestly, we're not enemies or threats or anything. We just needed somewhere to sleep."

The girl stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged and relaxed. "I think they're okay," she called out the door. "I don't think they were sent, after all."

Three more people crowded into the room. The first was a slender girl with blonde hair and hawklike, exotic eyes the colour of cerulean. The second was a tall, brawny guy with a ripped body and short, messy, bleached spikes. The third was a skinny runt of a guy, lanky, in black skinny jeans and an _Escape the Fate _t-shirt, with obviously dyed-black, too long hair, and more metal in his face than Morgan owned in jewellery.

"What's your story?" the blonde girl asked, her predator eyes sharp. Clearly, just because they'd passed initial judgement didn't mean she trusted them.

"Cut 'em some slack," the red-head said, glancing at her. "You were standing outside – you heard. They're fine. Brody, untie 'em, would ya?"

The brawny blonde guy stooped and untied the ropes binding them together. Stretching thankfully, Morgan clambered to her feet, head in hands. "You guys hit hard."

"Sorry," Brody replied gruffly.

"Can't be too careful," the blonde added, unsmiling. "It's way too dangerous."

"Want some Panadol?" the redhead offered. Morgan and Daniel followed her into a narrow hallway (they left Matt sleeping), which opened out into a small, messy kitchen. The redhead climbed up on the bench and ferreted through the cupboards. She tossed a pack of paracetamol across the room and filled two glasses with water.

"Thanks," Morgan said, not quite knowing what else to say.

"I'm Amy," the redhead introduced with a smile.

"Morgan," Morgan replied. "And Daniel. The other kid's Matt."

"Well you already know Brody," Amy said. "The blonde girl is Emma, and the Emo kid is Nick."

"How long have you guys been here?" Morgan asked. Daniel seemed too annoyed at being knocked out to want to talk yet.

Amy shrugged. "Maybe a week. Brody owns the place, and he let me stay. Emma was already here. We saved Nick from a Chimera Anima a couple of days ago."

"How'd you save him?" Morgan asked curiously.

Amy grinned. "We fought it. All of us are Mews."

"Shut your fucking mouth, Marshall," Emma snapped, stalking in and glaring. "Stop giving away our secrets. You have no idea who they could tell, and if you're friendliness screws us over, I'll fucking kill you."

"Who're they gonna tell?" Amy protested, frowning. Emma glared at her. She was beautiful and terrifying at the same time, with her brilliant blue eyes blazing and her creamy skin crinkled with rage around her eyes.

"They could tell _them_," she hissed. "Or, they could tell someone who is _linked _to _them_. Or they could accidentally let it slip to someone who trusts someone else who is _actually linked to them._ Don't trust _anyone_, you fucking dropkick."

She levelled a seething glare at Morgan and Daniel and stormed out like a thundercloud.

"Um… sorry?" Amy offered, red-faced.

"You _can _trust us," Morgan assured her, realising in advance how stupid the next part of her sentence would sound, but saying it anyway. "We're Mews, too."

"Really?" Amy's voice squeaked with excitement, her eyes big and round – almost shiny.

"Well, not all of us," Morgan corrected. "Daniel and I are. Matt's not. But… when she says 'them', who is she referring to?"

Amy sighed, swinging her legs back and forth. "She means the Cyniclons. She really hates them, and not just because they've invaded Australia and are killing everyone. It's like she has a weird personal vendetta against them, but she never talks about it."

The three of them were quiet for a moment, then Morgan spoke. "Well," she said sarcastically. "She's _lovely_."

"Don't take it personally," Amy advised. "She's like that to everyone. Come on. Let's make up some beds. You need somewhere to sleep, right? You can stay with us if you want. Brody and Nick won't mind, and Emma'll get over it."

She grinned impishly and led the way out of the kitchen.

* * *

**March 16 – 21:24**

Morgan let out a long sigh of sleepiness and comfort. It was nine thirty, she'd finally taken a nice, hot shower and literally watched the dirt wash out of her hair. She'd lathered shampoo and conditioner it until it shone again, then she'd dried herself with a thick, fluffy towel. Now she was curled up under a pile of cosy (although moth-ball smelling) blankets beside Amy, warmed to the core, and was pleasantly sleepy. Through the comfy fuzziness of her mind, she managed to string together some thoughts and questions.

"Amy," she whispered in the darkness.

"Yeah?" the little redhead whispered back. Morgan rolled onto her stomach. The pillow beneath her cheeks was soft and plush.

"What's wrong with the Alfred?" she asked, remembering Amy's initial reaction when she'd mentioned it. Amy sighed audibly.

"The problem is, we don't know," she replied. "But something weird's happening there. We've been keeping up with updates and reports, and it's the only hospital in Melbourne that hasn't been attacked yet. It's suspicious, and it doesn't make any sense. You'd think they'd wipe out Melbourne's best hospital _first_. Plus…" she trailed off hesitantly.

"What?" Morgan prompted, curiosity heightened.

"A lot of people die there," Amy said finally. She sighed with what sounded like reluctance. Morgan's insides had temporarily frozen; they defrosted slowly while she mulled over the alarming statement.

"How do you know?"

"Like I said before: We follow updates and reports. We want to learn as much about our enemy as possible so we can defeat it. We just keep our ears to the ground and our faces out of the spotlight. So far, they haven't noticed us, so we're pretty safe here."

Both girls were silent. In the corner, the mattress that housed Emma rustled as she moved around for a second. Morgan didn't know if she was actually asleep, or simply ignoring them both. She didn't really care.

"We've been keeping track," Amy went on, still whispering. "More people are admitted to the Alfred than discharged. And those who are discharged are all middle-aged or older."

Morgan knew immediately what she was talking about. "But most admittances would be kids, wouldn't they? Students and stuff, because of the attacks on schools."

"Exactly," Amy agreed. "So an alarming number of kids are getting admitted, but not discharged. We know for a fact that some have died – they say it has something to do with their wounds. We don't know much about that, though."

"It's poison," Morgan explained, feeling more and more certain about it each time it was raised in conversation. "The monsters secrete some kind of poison somehow, and it gets into your cells if you're wounded by one. We _think_, but aren't sure, that the poison attacks the immune system, like cancer or leukaemia. If it spreads, it shuts down the body from the inside."

Amy was heavily silent beside her. Finally she whispered: "How do _you _know all that shit?"

"We came from Box Hill Hospital," Morgan said simply. "Daniel overheard some doctors talking about it."

"… That's awful," Amy said sadly, sounding dismayed even through her whispering.

Morgan found her eyes stinging as she thought of Max. "I don't know if there's a cure. It's probably why so many kids are dying."

They were both silent for a long time.

"What I want to know," Amy said finally, sounding much sleepier now, "is what's actually _going on _at the Alfred."

Me too, Morgan thought to herself. I want to know if it's going to affect Max, and if we need to get her out again.

She lay in her thrown-together bed, staring up at the dark roof for what felt like ages, mulling over everything that had happened in the last ten days. Ten days. It had only been such a short amount of time since the aliens had invaded, and already their world had been turned completely upside down. School felt like a thing of the past; like it belonged to some part of her life from years prior. Or like it simply belonged in another lifetime altogether. Something as routine and trivial as school was just unfathomable these days.

As she lay in bed thinking, an interesting thought slowly came to Morgan. She didn't know how she came to think it, but once she did, it stayed in her mind, growing and festering, until she was thinking about only it. In fact, it felt like such a significant thought that it dragged her away from the brink of sleep and threw her back into alert consciousness. She opened her eyes and stared steadily up at the shadowy light bulb above her.

"You know what _I _want to know?" she muttered to no-one in particular. Amy's peaceful breathing was tell-tale of her having fallen asleep. Morgan went on, the thought concreting itself as she spoke it aloud. "I want to know why so many _young people _are dying. I want to know why it seems like _only young people are dying_."

Eventually, sleep curled its snaky tendrils around her once more and dragged her steadily towards its inviting hearth. But even as she let go and slipped willingly into unconsciousness, the sense that she'd caught onto something significant, and that she was _right_, burned with strong conviction – like a glowing tongue of flame – at the back of her mind.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Richmond Football Club (RFC): **An Aussie Rules footy team, nicknamed 'the Tigers', due to their logo; a yellow brute of a tiger in a footy jumper, holding a red football. They sport the colours yellow and black; their jumper (guernsey as the English call them, jersey as I've also heard them called) is black with a yellow diagonal stripe from the right shoulder to the left hip. Their training grounds are in Melbourne, in the suburb of Richmond, like Collingwood's training grounds are in Collingwood. Back in the day, the AFL was the VFL (Victorian Football League), because Aussie Rules was originally exclusively a Victorian sport. Yup, it was ours before it was Australia's. Victoria FTW! Seriously, man, we're the best damn state in Australia ;)

**Panadol** - I've explained this before, I think. It's a medicine; a paracetamol in the form of a tablet. Painkillers, basically. Widely-used in Australia.

**Dropkick** - Synonymous for idiot, fool, etc.

* * *

**NOTES**

**Note! **Lawl. Nick's an Emo Kid. Sorry, just wanted to LOL at that. It's not really a relevant or important note in any way XD

* * *

**A/N: Ooh, what's Morgan onto with that little theory? Will it lead her to truth, or a dead end? To safety, or to even more perilous dangers? And what's the deal with Emma? Want to know why she's got a five-foot pole practically shoved up her a$$? Well, you'll just have to read on to find out!**

**Y'all know how it is... Reviews are love :)**

**And remember to check in on my poll, too!**

**Until the next update.**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	14. Thirteen

**July 21, 2010.**

**A/N: Solacers, my sincerest apologies for the massive hiatus there. Exam period started, and then I jetted off to England for three weeks, so FF net sort of got neglected for a while there. I hope you'll all forgive me XD;;**

**Results from the poll:** So, on the topic of Morgan's indefinite death...

- Keep her alive. Her character strength is imperative to the storyline. (60 percent) **WINNER~!**

- Kill her off. Her death is necessary for future plot developments. (40 percent)

**Sorry, everyone who wanted her killed off. Looks like Morgan's sticking around for a while ;) Thanks everyone for voting!**

**Anyway. Here's the next chapter of SfS! Hope you enjoy :)**

**

* * *

**

**Searching for Solace**

**- THIRTEEN -**

* * *

**March 17 – 09:56**

"What the fuck are we doing?"

Morgan shivered and rubbed her hands along her arms. It was an unusually cool morning for March. Autumn in Melbourne was normally about as hot as summer. The breeze was a little on the chilly side, uncomfortably so. She stalked along the footpath, trying to pretend Emma and the glowing Chimera Anima weren't really there.

"You want to know what's going on at the Alfred," Amy replied shortly. "So do they. It's logical for us to go together."

Daniel looked about as happy with this arrangement as Emma. He glowered occasionally at Morgan, as though he held her personally responsible for everything bad that had happened to them. Morgan ignored him, too. Matt trotted along at the back with Nick. Neither of them said anything the entire way.

After a ten minute walk, the Alfred loomed ahead. The sight of it reinforced Morgan's feeling that something very strange was afoot inside. She swallowed the unexplainable nerves that were rising and followed Brody and Amy through the sliding doors. Emma immediately peeled away and headed in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?" Amy hissed. The receptionist behind the counter glanced up, a suspicious expression on her face.

"We're here now," Emma replied, still walking, not bothering to lower her voice. In Morgan's opinion, she was being very childish and unreasonable. "That was the deal. We don't have to follow them like puppies anymore."

With a sigh, Brody started after her. The two disappeared up the corridor, Nick trailing hesitantly behind them. Amy propped her hands on her hips and turned to face the awaiting trio with an apologetic look.

"Sorry," she said. "Looks like we're splitting up. We'll meet back here at the end of visiting hours, okay?"

"Okay," Morgan agreed, and they parted ways.

Yesterday, the peaceful interior of the Alfred had been comforting and relieving. Now, it was suspicious and threatening. Morgan walked down the corridor to Max and Terry's room, trying not to look shifty, and tip-toeing, though she had no idea why. It was as though she expected their enemies to leap out from inside cupboards or store rooms as they passed by. It was an irrational fear, she knew, but it was there nonetheless.

Terry was sleeping heavily, snoring quietly. Max slowly shifted as Morgan sat on the end of her bed, her eyes fluttering open weakly. She blinked languidly for a few seconds, gazing groggily at Morgan, then looked around, her forehead furrowing as she focused on Daniel.

Her expression said more than words could have.

"Yeah," Morgan said, clearing her throat. "Daniel Palmer is _actually_ standing there." She smiled happily when Max returned her gaze, her eyes unhappy. "And you're actually awake."

Max managed to nod her head a little, her lips curling in a weak attempt at a smile.

"You're at the Alfred," Morgan informed her, watching her glance around the white room in confusion. "We had to move you from Box Hill. Lots of hospitals have been attacked recently. Hey, guess what?" Morgan grinned widely. "I transformed!"

"Shut up!" Daniel growled, glancing around anxiously in case any strangers were listening in.

Morgan rolled her eyes at him and flicked her short, dark hair pettily, turning back to Max. "It was _really _cool. I absolutely _obliterate_d a huge-ass spider! The thing was like a mammoth!"

Max paled considerably, which Morgan didn't think was even possible, given how sallow her face already was. She quickly changed the subject, in fear that Max was about to faint.

"Are you hungry?"

Max stretched her neck a little – it seemed to require a huge amount of effort – and shook her head slowly. It was really scary, Morgan thought, how quickly her health had deteriorated. The Mackenzie she was talking to and looking at now was a mere shadow of her former self. If someone had told her before the invasion that this was going to happen, she simply wouldn't have believed it.

The doors opened and all three visitors turned expectantly. A nurse hurried in, hardly acknowledging their presence. She checked the records of the three other patients before reaching Max. Only after examining her progress notes did she glance at Morgan and Daniel.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to wait out in the waiting room," she said in a clipped voice. "She needs to have her scan now."

"Scan?" Morgan leeched onto the tidbit of information immediately. "Like an x-ray?"

"Yes," the nurse replied, seemingly without even thinking. Warning bells rang loudly in Morgan's head. She frowned sharply.

"But there's nothing wrong with her bones," she said, hearing how sharp her voice sounded. "There are no fractures, splints, breaks or fissures. How do you x-ray an immune system?"

The nurse froze and looked at her, as though seeing her for the first time. In her expression, Morgan read suspicion, alarm and a touch of worry. Aha!, she thought victoriously, we're onto something here.

"Please wait outside," the nurse decided simply. "I don't have time to explain it to you. Your sister will be back very soon. It's a quick procedure."

As she wheeled Max away, Morgan's brain quickly formulated ideas.

"Can I come?" The nurse paused and glanced back incredulously. Morgan's heart hammered in her chest; she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, but she continued with her lie, feeding it as steadily and calmly as if it were solid truth. "Family members can come along for support, can't they? The doctor before told me I could go if she wanted me to."

Max was staring in open disbelief, clearly confused. Morgan glanced at her, sending her a subtle, pointed look. She prayed furiously that the nurse didn't check with Max for confirmation. To her immense relief, luck seemed to be on her side that day.

"You can come," the nurse caved reluctantly. "But you have to wait in the imaging department waiting room while she has the scan."

"That's fine," Morgan replied quickly, shooting Daniel a warning glance as she passed into the corridor behind the stretcher. He shrugged simply and stopped following, turning back to wait beside Terry's bed with Matt.

* * *

**March 17 – 10:27**

Morgan's knee was bouncing impatiently again. The waiting room was cold and empty. The two receptionists had left the desk and slipped into the kitchen for a coffee break, and were chatting away about things Morgan wasn't interested in. Max had disappeared into a theatre, and she'd heard a passing radiologist mention that she was being set up for the scan.

A pair of doctors emerged from a room down the end of the corridor, talking quietly. One of them glanced dismissively at Morgan. She listened to their sharp footsteps echoing away until silence fell once more, and gazed restlessly around the imaging department. She hated sitting out here doing nothing while possibly sinister things could be happening to Max.

Another minute dragged by. Morgan's knee was bouncing more violently when a surprise door swung open just down the corridor, revealing a short, dark staircase behind. A young Asian woman – perhaps a few years older than Morgan – hurried down the steps and glanced up, lookingg alarmed when she spotted Morgan sitting there. She was dressed in a green top and matching pants; intern scrubs. She shut the door quickly, glanced back with obvious worry at Morgan and scurried away, her blue-mesh-bootied feet scuffing against the linoleum.

Morgan stared after her for a moment, then got up, suspicion brewing in her mind. Basically every medical show she'd ever watched had viewing rooms above the operation theatres. While Max wasn't being operated on, surely there would be a viewing room for the interns to watch the radiologists doing their stuff. Glancing up and down the corridor in case someone came around the corner, Morgan pulled the door open and darted up the staircase.

She found herself at the end of a long, narrow corridor lined with windows. It was dimly lit, and she had trouble adjusting her eyes, but the rooms below the glass were brighter; inside the nearest she could see fancy-looking machines and clinical equipment. She wandered along the corridor, peering down curiously into the different rooms. The first two were empty and the third was being set up by two interns, but the fourth was more interesting. Morgan stopped and peered down.

A figure was lying on the bed in the middle – not Mackenzie, but another teenager; a boy. He was sleeping, or unconscious, lying perfectly still. Even from high above, Morgan could see the ghastly pale of his face, the gauntness of his cheeks and the dark rings around his closed eyes. He looked like Max. A radiologist in navy-blue scrubs was preparing a machine, calling instructions to an intern that was either helping or learning. The intern was standing right in the corner, looking oddly tense about whatever was happening.

After a series of technical whirs and beeps, the machine was moving, its arm slowly running the length of the boy's body. A thin beam of red passed over his snowy skin, all the way to his toes, and back to the top of his head. It went through one cycle, then was quiet.

"Done," the radiologist said, her voice surprisingly loud and clear. There were obviously microphones in the room. "In a few minutes, the results will pop up on the screen. While we're waiting, we'll get the bloods."

Wait a second… _bloods_? In a radiology scan? Morgan's stomach wriggled in a funny way. Something wasn't sitting right. Her heart beating with the adrenaline of being somewhere she knew she shouldn't, she stepped closer to the glass, almost squishing her nose against the pane as she tried to see what was happening below.

The intern reluctantly moved bedside, a large, plastic syringe and a little glass vial in his rubber-gloved hands. As he turned the unconscious boy's arm palm-up and searched with delicate, practised precision for a vein on the inside of his elbow, it suddenly clicked to Morgan that he might not actually be there to learn the ways of radiography. Clearly, he was medically trained, so he was probably a nurse, or on work experience to become a doctor. She watched him draw blood easily from the boy's arm, her suspicions growing to the point where she started to feel worried.

The intern stoppered the vial, removed the syringe and labelled the tiny glass of black-red blood, dropping the whole lot in a green kidney-shaped dish.

"Finished," he said, frowning unpleasantly. The radiologist paid him no attention. She was focusing on the computer screen, tapping one foot impatiently.

"Right," she said finally. "Here we are. Results are in."

The intern chose not to look at the screen, which Morgan found odd. What medically-in-training person wouldn't be curious about their patients' results?

Something that sounded suspiciously like a triumphant sort of snort sounded from the radiologist. She turned back to the intern and clapped her hands once.

"Poor Andy Fisher. Positive for mutant genes," she said, sounding ironically unsympathetic, for a doctor. "You can process the bloods if you really want, for confirmation. To save time and money, however, I suggest you trust the gene scan and just prepare the shot. Leave it in the fridge for now."

What the hell was a _gene scan_?

The intern tensed visibly.

"If you can't stomach it, you'd better rethink your career path," the radiologist said sharply. "It's your job. Go and do it before you get sacked."

Without even glancing at the boy on the bed, she swept from the room. The door slammed shut behind her, and the intern was left by himself, staring wordlessly at the bed. Morgan watched him keenly. It was difficult to tell in the dimness, but she could have sworn his expression was sad; pitiful. Whatever it was his job to do, he most certainly didn't like having to do it – that much was obvious. He stood there for a long time, eventually sighing heavily and walking miserably from the room.

Morgan stood at the window, clicking her tongue thoughtfully as she ran over everything she'd just witnessed. Suddenly, something moved sharply in her peripheral vision, and she jumped violently, whipping around in fright.

The Asian intern started, alarmed. Her almond-shaped eyes widened; she'd only just spotted Morgan standing there. And now she was looking utterly terrified, like Morgan had sprouted three heads, or something equally horrifying.

"Get out," she hissed, her words cropped by her broken English. "You're not allowed up here!"

"Sorry!" Morgan stammered. Shit. Now she was in trouble. Her heart hammered furiously. "I-I got lost…" It sounded pathetic even as she said it.

"Just leave now," the intern muttered, bustling behind her and pushing her towards the staircase. "Do not come back here. If anyone else catches you…"

Morgan turned to look at her incredulously. "You're not telling on me?"

"Telling on…?" The girl's expression was blank. She brushed it off and pushed her down the stairs, out into the corridor. "Go, go! Do not go up there! It is off-limits."

"Okay," Morgan replied, unable to believe she was getting off scot-free after what she'd just seen. The intern waved her hand, urging her away and glancing anxiously up and down the corridor. Morgan caught her eye. "Uh… Thanks."

The intern simply scurried away again, and Morgan obediently hurried off down the corridor, her mind whirling with her unbelievably narrow escape from serious trouble, and the monstrous suspicion regarding the activities taking place in the imaging department. Something was definitely not normal about what they were doing, and Morgan was getting a very, very bad feeling about it.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Autumn: **The seasons in Australia are kind of backwards. So autumn (fall) is in March, April and May for us. Winter is June, July, August. Spring is September, October and November. And Summer is December, January and February. :)

**Telling on**: Basically, taddling.

* * *

**A/N: Well, well, well. What has Morgan stumbled upon? Is it all as suspicious as she thinks? And what _is_ a gene scan?**

**Well, you'll find out if you keep reading! :)**

**Thanks, everybody, for keeping up with us. I promise you updates will come more frequently again from now on :)**

**Reviews are love! S2**

**Until the next update,**

**Cherrie x**


	15. Fourteen

**July 27, 2010.**

**A/N: Look, if you read this, please review. I'm having the worst week, so please, if you actually do read and enjoy this story, _please_ leave some feedback. Otherwise I think I might just discontinue.**

**Peace out.**

**

* * *

**

**Searching for Solace**

**- FOURTEEN -**

**

* * *

**

**March 17 - 11:48**

"What the fuck is a gene scan?" Emma said, ever the charming lady.

"Fucked if I know," Morgan replied, swearing pointedly. It seemed that every single sentence uttered from the blonde girl's mouth couldn't be said unless it contained a cuss, and Morgan was already growing tired of it. She sat back on the bench and stretched her arms behind her head. "Possibly what it sounds like?"

"What?" Amy asked. "A scan of someone's genes?"

"Well, you'd think so, wouldn't you?" Daniel grumbled smartly, scuffing the toe of his runner against the pavement. Morgan shot him a warning look. Between him and Emma, the cohesion of the two small groups was being made considerably difficult.

"How do they even _do _that?" Amy asked, impressed.

Morgan shrugged. "That's irrelevant. They've managed to work it out somehow, so they're doing it. And I'm almost one hundred per cent sure Max was having one today."

"They were checking her genes?" Daniel confirmed.

Morgan glanced at him. "I think so. They definitely checked the other guy's for something. You'd assume they'd have the same procedure for everyone."

"And the scan produced results they wanted," Brody commented, hands jammed in his pockets. He was gazing thoughtfully up at the Alfred. The bench they were sitting on or around was just outside. "So why take the kid's blood?"

"She said it was for confirmation," Morgan recounted. "But the intern didn't need to confirm… They kept the vial, too."

"And the results said the kid's genes were mutant," Emma said, rejoining the conversation. She took a slow drag on her cigarette and exhaled artfully. "Something about all this is seriously fucked up."

There was a long pause. A bird twittered placidly in a nearby tree. Morgan gazed unseeingly at the ever-present glowing Chimera. It was astonishing how used she was to seeing them now. She hardly even noticed them anymore.

"Well," Amy said eventually, "when you think about it, all our genes are mutant, aren't they?"

"What the fuck, Marshall?" Emma snapped. For once, Amy glared back at her.

"Use your head," she replied shortly. "Dr. Shirogane has mutated _all _our genes. He did it when he made us all Mews."

The light-bulb flew on in Morgan's head. "Oh my God. That's so obviously correct I can't believe none of us thought of it earlier."

Amy beamed with pride.

But that wasn't all that was piecing together inside Morgan's head. She was re-seeing now, in her memory, the kid being scanned, Max being wheeled away for a scan, and the three kids waiting to be scanned.

"All of them had similarities," she said aloud, but speaking more to herself.

"What?" Emma demanded flatly. "What the fuck are you ranting about?"

"Max, the kid getting the scan, and the kids in the ward," Morgan explained. "They were all attacked by Chimera Anima. They all showed the same symptoms. Maybe that's what they were checking for."

Daniel and Amy sent identical, confused looks her way.

"They were checking for cells mutated by Chimera poison," Morgan elaborated. "When the results came back positive, the radiologist definitely seemed to think it was a bad thing."

"Why?" Emma asked immediately. "What's the point? According to you lot, they're all gonna die from it anyway. Why bother scanning their genes for traces of fucking alien goo?"

Morgan sighed. Emma had a point, and she didn't have an answer in rebuttal.

"What was with the 'shot', by the way?" Brody interjected, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "How does that tie into your theory?"

To be honest, Morgan _hadn't _included it. Now that she tried, the whole thing made even less sense. Her shoulders sagged with defeat as her idea crumbled to pieces.

"I dunno," she admitted. "But something is _absolutely_ up with that scan. It's not normal. I think what's wrong with the hospital has something to do with that, and the shot, whatever the hell _that_ is."

Another frustrating silence fell.

"So… now what?" Amy asked eventually. "Visiting hours are almost over. If we go back in, we'll just get kicked out again."

Morgan thought for a moment, trying to find a way out of the corner they were backed into. "Ah, fuck. Let's just go back to the apartment for now. There's nothing we can do at the moment."

Emma shot her an angry glare. "Who gave you permission to make decisions for all of us? Learn your fucking place. Come on," she said, turning to Brody and Nick. "Let's go."

"Where are you going?" Amy called irritably after them. Emma didn't reply. It seemed she was turning against the skinny redhead, now that she was associating herself with Morgan, Daniel and Matt.

Amy growled in frustration, pressing her hands down on the peak of her Richmond cap. When she looked up again, her eyes were fiery. "Fine. They're bloody idiots anyway. Let's go home."

Morgan glanced nervously at Daniel, who shrugged. It didn't seem like they had much choice, since they had nowhere else to go. And right now, Amy was not a person one wanted as an enemy.

* * *

**March 17 - 12:15**

"Who's computer?"

Amy glanced around as Morgan sat down tentatively beside her. The desk was cluttered with papers – scrawled notes – and pens. She pushed some of it aside so she had room to prop her elbows. The laptop sitting among the mess was a chunky Dell. Whoever owned it hadn't been taking very good care of it; the screen was smudged with fingerprints, the keys littered with what looked like biscuit crumbs, and there were dents and scratches everywhere.

"Nick's," Amy replied, flicking off a flake of half-melted chocolate. "It's his prized possession."

"Yeah, you can really tell," Morgan commented sarcastically. Amy grinned; Morgan relaxed. So far, so good. It didn't seem as though she was about to get her head bitten off.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

Amy sighed and scratched under her cap. "Checking the memorial list."

"What's that?"

"It's a Facebook page," Amy replied, loading the Facebook main site. Morgan had heard of it – before the invasion, of course. Some of her friends had raved about how good it was, but she hadn't had the opportunity to take a look for herself. Apparently it was the next big thing in online communication. Amy signed in to an account with an odd name – simply 'Mr. X' – and no personal details.

"It's so no-one knows who or where we are," Amy explained. "This is a joint account for all of us, just so we can keep up with what's going on whilst remaining anonymous." She clicked a link and a new page loaded. 'In Memoriam', it was called. From there, she hit yet another link, and they were taken away from Facebook to a completely new site. Morgan narrowed her eyes and read: inmemorium. com/links/census/001.

"They call it a census," Amy said, "because it's basically like a census. These pages contain an A-Z listing of every family name in Victoria. Someone in the government set it up – probably without official consent. It's like a phone book."

"But what's it for?" Morgan asked, confused. It seemed like a hell of a lot of work for such a pointless existence. Amy shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, the idea is that you find your family by surname and address," she said. "Each family has its own page. You open it up… and the details of your family members are listed there."

"So this site tells you all the personal details of everyone in your family, like where they are and stuff?" Morgan asked incredulously. Holy shit, that was dangerous. Talk about stalking!

"No," Amy said. "You're not getting it… Let me show you."

Her mouth set into a grim line, she scrolled up to the site search bar and typed in 'Marshall'. Over a hundred different entries popped up. Beside each one was a residential address. She scrolled slowly through them until she found what she was looking for; an address in Vermont South. When she opened the page a list of names appeared:

**Marshall, David  
Marshall, Janine  
Marshall, Jackson  
Marshall, Amy  
****Marshall, Hannah**

Beside the last name was a short sentence: **Died hostage at Vermont Secondary College, March 8, 2007. **Morgan stared at the horrible little sentence for a moment, then slowly glanced at Amy, who was still grim-faced.

"Yeah," she said, an odd tone in her voice. "My sister died. A Chimera Anima killed her, I'm sure. I wasn't there; I don't know who updated our page."

She clicked back out of her family, returning to the A-Z listing. "Anyone can add entries or details to any of the pages. It's how everyone keeps in touch with what's happening to their families. So many people have been separated since the invasion."

Morgan didn't know what to say. She wanted to ask about the rest of Amy's family, but at the same time, she didn't want to mention it ever again. She wanted to comfort Amy, but barely knew the right things to say or do. She wanted to look up her own family, but at the same time, she didn't really care about where her parents were, and she doubted they were concerned about her. She wanted to know if her brother was okay, but they hardly spoke and had never gotten along, so what was the point?

In the end, she decided against her own family and reached, instead, to type, slowly and with shaking fingers: 'Richards'.

There they were.

**Richards, John  
Richards, Sally  
Richards, Mackenzie  
Richards, Sarah**

Morgan sighed with relief. At least it seemed everyone in Max's family was still okay. No-one had been confirmed dead. The site didn't provide information on their whereabouts, or when they'd last been seen or contacted, but it did provide comfort in the knowledge that they were still alive. At least she could visit Max now with some good news.

A melodical jingle rang out loudly, interrupting the silence. Amy dug in her pocket and pulled out an old Nokia 3210. The screen was flashing the name 'EMMA'. With an irritated frown, Amy hit answer and held the phone to her ear. "What?"

"Marshall, get your fucking ass down to Albert Park Lake right now!" Emma bellowed. In the background were the alarming sounds of thunderous crashes and shouts.

"What the hell is going on?" Amy demanded, half-angry, half-worried.

"There's fucking Chimeras everywhere, what the fuck do you think?" Emma yelled. "Do you want us to _die_? Hurry the fuck up!"

The line disconnected as she hung up. Amy stared at the phone, then at Morgan with wide eyes. Morgan's heart was pounding in her chest.

"Guess we'd better get going, then," she said. That seemed to kick-start the bewildered redhead into gear. She jumped up from the desk and dashed away.

"Make sure you've got your pendant," she called over her shoulder. Morgan checked it was safely in her pocket, glancing back at the laptop once before quickly getting up.

"Daniel!" she called, yanking her jacket on as she strode into the hall. "We're going!"

"What?" his irritated voice replied from behind a door to her right; the boy's room. Morgan shoved the door open. Daniel and Matt were both lying on mattresses, apparently taking a nap.

"Get up," Morgan snapped, kicking Daniel's mattress and ignoring his annoyed protests. "Matt, guard the apartment. Daniel, move!"

He rolled over and glared up at her. "What the fuck, Morgan?"

"Get your pendant. We've got a bitch to save."

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Bloody idiot:** a very Australian insult. In the drink-driving campaigns on TV, the slogan is: 'If you drink and drive, you're a bloody idiot'.

**Albert Park Lake**: a huge lake right in the middle of Melbourne. There's an annual grand prix held there :)

* * *

**NOTES**

**Nokia3210: **Anyone remember those ancient phones? Everyone in Australia had one at some point XD

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, not the best chapter. But still.**

**I'll update soon, if there are a couple of reviews. Also, the prologue is now up. So read that, too.**

**Ciao.**

**Cherrie x**


	16. Fifteen

**August 2, 2010.**

**A/N: Apologies for the tantrum-throwing last week, guys. But thanks so much to those who responded and did leave reviews. I appreciated every word :)**

**Extra apologies to Kyasarin-Freakload. She knows why xx**

**That aside, here's the next chapter! Enjoy :)**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- FIFTEEN -**

* * *

**March 17 – 13:02**

"Why the fuck are we saving her?" Daniel demanded as they ran down the street. "The stupid cow would let _us _die."

"Well, then you're a better person than the stupid cow, aren't you?" Morgan replied. Amy loped beside them, running lithely and effortlessly, like an elf. Clearly, she was much fitter and more prepared for situations like this than Morgan was, and Morgan had thought _she _was in pretty good shape. Right now, she was puffing heavily and a serious stitch was stretching along her ribs.

"How the fuck did they end up all the way down at Albert Park Lake, anyway?" Daniel fumed. "Fucking ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is your swearing," Morgan replied irritably. "You're as bad as bloody Emma!"

Daniel was moodily silent for the next five minutes of running.

Finally, Amy slowed, her expression troubled. "It's too far," she said. "We're not gonna get there in time."

"So, what do we do?" Morgan panted. Amy gazed around hopefully. The street was basically deserted, except for a few abandoned cars, their belongings strewn across the road.

"Check 'em," she said immediately, approaching the first. Morgan didn't know what they were doing, but she obeyed, since it was a plan. No-one else had one. She peered into a locked Ford sedan. There wasn't much inside; a McDonald's bag, several scrunched tissues and a styrene coffee cup. All the doors were locked.

"Here," Daniel called from ahead. He yanked open the door to a sea-blue Mitsubishi Lancer. "Keys are in the ignition."

"Excellent!" Amy said, grinning happily. "Get in."

"Whoa, guys!" Morgan called in alarm. "We can't _steal a car._"

"These days, there is no 'can' and 'can't'," Amy replied. "This is a fight for survival, Morgan. Unless you find some other way to miraculously get us there faster, this is our only option. Besides, where's the owner to care? Who's gonna stop us?"

"But–"

"Just shut your face and get in," Daniel snapped, striding around to the driver's side. Morgan glared at him. Asshole. He shot her a disapproving look. "We stole an ambulance. What's the difference?"

Morgan glowered for a second longer, then caved. Amy was right: they really didn't have any other options. And as much as she didn't like the thought of stealing, they were running out of time. If they didn't move now, the others would die. Growling, she reluctantly stomped over to the car.

"Get out of the way," she snapped at Daniel, who stepped backwards obediently. She sat roughly in the driver's seat and slammed the door loudly, answering Amy's bewildered expression with, "He's a fucking bad driver." She glared out the window. "Hurry up."

Seething, Daniel slid into the back of the car. Amy buckled up quickly, and Morgan hit the accelerator. Not a minute later, they were speedily making their way towards the Rod Laver and Vodafone arenas. It didn't take long; before they knew it the glistening green waters of Albert Park Lake were looming ahead. Beyond the far shore, Morgan spotted the rooftops of the arenas, and the bright buildings of Melbourne Sports and Aquatic Centre.

"There's MSAC," she said, nodding her head. "Where are the others?"

They followed the road – part of the grand prix circuit – around the edge of the lake, the tension building the more they searched, seemingly in vain, for Amy's companions.

"There!" the redhead suddenly shouting, throwing an arm in a wild point that started Morgan so much that she almost jerked them off the road and into the water.

"Watch the road!" Daniel yelled angrily from the back, as she swerved back onto the asphalt. Morgan ignored him, following Amy's outstretched arm. Three lone figures were fighting what looked like a car-sized blowfly and a shiny black millipede the length of two Ventura buses. She floored it so the engine roared, braking to a stop with a screech of complaining tires and a cloud of black smoke.

Before the Lancer had even completely stopped moving, Daniel and Amy were throwing their doors open and stumbling out, taking off at a run. Morgan cursed and yanked the handbrake, throwing off her seatbelt. She didn't even pause to register just how ironic the whole scene was; if she'd stopped for a second she'd have realised she would have made a pretty good action movie heroine. Instead, she grabbed her pendant and exploded out of the car, following the others to the fight.

As she reached for her pendant, she heard Amy and Daniel shout: "Metamorphosis!" one after the other, and watched with amazed eyes as the pair exploded with bright white light. She didn't stop to watch their transformations, though; she held her pendant close to her heart with tightly-clasping fingers, summoning the process exactly as she had last time.

"Metamorphosis!" Morgan cried, and again felt the glorious warmth wash through her. In her Mew form, she ran forward with renewed speed, joining the Mew forms of Daniel and Amy as they observed the best way to join the fight.

To her right, Amy was dressed in a lemon-yellow dress – strapless and sleeveless – with a pair of white and yellow over-the-knee socks and matching long, fingerless gloves, and little yellow slippers. A pair of brilliant, feathery yellow wings protruded from her back – glossy black on the outside – and a tail of mixed black and yellow feathers had sprouted from her lower back.

To her left, Daniel had adopted a pair of dusty golden dog ears and a long, sandy-coloured tail. He'd taken a tense battle stance, the muscles of his bare arms flexing as he itched to fight, his tail wagging stiffly; warningly. His mustard-yellow wife-beater stretched as he moved, his matching cotton pants fitting comfortably. Unlike the girls, he was barefoot.

"Don't fucking stand there!" Emma's voice shouted, followed by, "Reborn Devil Slash!" A blur of jet black, she raced forward with a long, lethal blade, hair whipping like fiery gold behind her. Roaring, she plunged the blade into the side of the millipede, cracking its hard exoskeleton, and began to drag it the length of the creature's snakelike body. The beast screamed – shivers ran down Morgan's spine. Beside her, Amy flinched.

"Move!" Daniel reiterated, moving forward. "Desert Mallee Axe!"

In his hands materialised a heavy-looking, sturdy axe, the sharpened arc glinting in the midday sun. He lunged forward, shouting, "Reborn Dingo Score!"

He swung the axe with both hands, embedding it with a sickening thud into the millipede's neck. The oversized insect howled with pain as hissing gooey liquid spurted from the gaping wound. Daniel wrenched the axe free and jumped back, preparing for another hit. On the other side of the grassy bank, Nick, in what looked like a red and black kimono, with skin scaly like a snake's, and Brody, his pectoral muscles rippling as he swung his fists – brass knuckle-encased, Morgan noted as she took a moment to admire his broad, bare chest – fought the huge blowfly. It hovered above them, stabbing occasionally with razor-edged legs.

"Amy, you help them!" Morgan said, pointing to the blowfly. "I'll help Emma!"

"Okay!" Amy agreed, bounding away with a, "Honey Myrtle Ring!"

Morgan turned back to the gigantic millipede, taking a deep breath. "Banskia Blades!" The twin knives materialised in her hands. Tightening her fingers around them, she ran forward. "Reborn–" But the millipede had chosen that exact moment to fight back. With an awful shriek, it curled its thick tail around and lashed it abruptly at Emma. With a cry, the blonde was knocked easily to the ground.

"Reborn Dingo Score!" Daniel bellowed again, sinking his axe further into the neck wound, evidently intending to behead the insect. At the same time, the dangerous tail raised again for another strike. Emma, winded and half-dazed, crawled agonisingly slowly to her knees. Morgan clenched her knives. The hundreds of little legs sprouting from the millipede's body were like blades; if one of them so much as scratched Emma – or any of them, for that matter – it'd be another kid in hospital. As much as she immensely disliked the bitchy, hostile blonde girl, Morgan didn't wish a slow, poisonous death on anybody.

The words flowed to the tip of her tongue – "Reborn Wallaby Strike!" – just as the tail began to fall. Morgan's body lurched forward, her arms raised to strike, and she collided with it, throwing herself in front of Emma seconds before she would have been made into mincemeat.

Her blades broke the shell and sunk wrist-deep into the soft, slimy body behind. Goo cascaded from the wounds as she crossed her knives back over themselves, hacking off the end of the tail. She screamed in pain – the Chimera's blood was scalding hot, like oil spat from a pan – and fell to her knees, crushed by the mind-numbing pain. Her blades, forgotten, disintegrated before her streaming eyes.

Vaguely, she heard Emma's voice shout, "Reborn Devil Slash!" at the same time as Daniel's yell, and felt more than witnessed the explosion of the millipede's battered body. Her vision swam; someone was grabbing at her shoulders, but she couldn't feel anything beyond the excruciation.

"Amy, get above it!" Brody called.

Amy obediently beat her wings and took to the air, climbing above the blowfly. Its wings looked like they were made of glass. "It has a full peripheral vision!" she called back. "How are we supposed to kill it?"

"Attack it all at once," Brody replied, his brass knuckles gleaming. "It won't know where to defend, or where to attack, if we hit from three sides. On three, alright?"

"Okay!" Amy agreed. Nick nodded feebly; behind his scaly snake skin, he was considerably pale. Fighting was not his strong suit.

"One!" Brody bellowed. Amy positioned her left hand underneath the sparkling ring on her right index finger. "Two!" She braced, hoping she wouldn't outshoot the attack in her nerves. Her heart hammered as Nick avoided a swinging, razor-sharp leg. "Three!"

"Reborn Honeyeater Song!" Amy cried, as Brody yelled, "Reborn Crocodile Crunch!" and Nick stammered, "Reborn Blacksnake Missile!"

A beam of glittering, rainbow light blasted from Amy's ring, colliding with the blowfly's fuzzy back. Brody smashed his fist into its side. Nick shot a small but incredibly sharp dart into one of its bulbous eyes. With a scream of pain, frustration and defeat, the blowfly exploded. Amy threw her hands instinctively over her face, to protect it from the spray of gunk she knew was about to hit. She was spattered shortly after; it felt like a crashing wave in the ocean. She lowered her arms, sloppy insides dripping disgustingly from her limbs, and returned to the ground.

"Well, that was absolutely feral," she commented cheerfully. "Good teamwork!"

"Quick! Get her into the lake!" Emma's voice echoed from across the grass. The trio turned. The two other Mews stood behind the remains of the millipede Chimera, struggling to steady Morgan's weight between them. She was limp and lolling in their arms. Amy's heart gave a sharp thud.

"What happened?" she cried, rushing over.

"She got Chimera blood on her hands," Emma replied gruffly, dragging Morgan towards the water. "The stuff's like acid, remember? We've gotta wash it off before her skin blisters, or rots and dies, or something. For fuck's sake, _pick her up_!" Daniel shot her a furious glare and readjusted his hold on Morgan's underarms. Together, they dropped her as carefully as possible at the water's edge. Emma didn't hesitate; she threw the wallaby Mew's wrists into the lake.

Amy, Brody and Nick stood back silently, watching Emma spend the next few minutes scrubbing furiously. Amy glanced down at the gunk on her costume and wondered vaguely why her own skin wasn't blistering fiercely. She dismissed it, pinning it on good fortune. The scene – three kids in colourful animal costumes standing around a fourth washing a fifth in a park lake – was made even more obscure by the fact that the fourth was Emma, who never cared about _anybody_, let alone helped them. Morgan moaned quietly the whole time.

Finally, Emma lifted her hands out, and Daniel dragged her into a sitting position, so the blonde girl could closely examine her hands. She held them delicately in her own, brushing her fingertips lightly against specific patches of skin.

"I think she'll be fine," Emma declared. "As far as I can tell, there might be one or two small blisters. At least the skin's not too discoloured."

She glowed faintly with brilliant white light for a flash of a second, and was back in her human form. She looked up at them all, confused as to why no-one else was speaking, and caught their identical, amazed expressions. Immediately, she became angry.

"What the fuck are you all staring at?" she snapped furiously, and everyone flinched. "She saved me from the fucking Chimera; I saved her in return. We're square. Big fucking deal." She shot up from the ground. "Someone get her back and look after her."

"Emma–" Amy called, but she snapped over her shoulder, "I'm going for a fucking walk! Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Someone should go with her," Brody commented, after a few appropriately quiet moments.

"Be my guest," Amy replied, turning back to Morgan. "She wants to be alone. If she gets herself killed, at least it'll be her fault."

"She's moving," Daniel interrupted from the ground. The conversation halted and they turned around. Morgan was slowly coming to; her legs were shifting, and she was trying to lift her head.

"Get her in the car," Brody instructed. "She'll be hard to move when she's fully conscious."

Daniel hoisted her up in his arms and carried her over to the Lancer, his dingo tail hanging limply behind him, swinging a little as he walked.

"I'll drive. Amy, you and Nick sit in the back. We'll put Morgan across your legs. Look after her, alright?" Brody said. With a white glimmer, he de-transformed. Nick mimicked him, and Amy summoned the change too, enjoying the quick warm burst, and the strange draining feeling. She opened her eyes and checked she was in the right form. Good-oh.

"Okay," she said, feeling suddenly exhausted from the Chimera fight, "let's go home."

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Ventura bus - one of the main buslines that runs in Victoria; mostly in Melbourne.**

**Lancer - Mitsubishi Lancer, if you don't know. It was hugely popular around 2004/2005. There are still quite a few around.**

* * *

**A/N: D: Will Morgan be okay? What was with Emma's strange outburst of almost-teamwork? And how come only Morgan was hurt by the Chimera blood? Questions will be answered in upcoming chapters, so keep reading to find out!**

**Did you like it? Please review it.**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	17. Sixteen

**August 9, 2010.**

**A/N: Greetings, Solacers :)**

**We've almost hit 50 reviews, people - I just realised :D That's quite exciting, in my opinion :P**

**Anyway, hope everyone had a great week. Here's the next update!**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- SIXTEEN -**

* * *

**March 17 – 18:41**

"How's your hand?"

"Fucking cains."

"At least you can still feel it. It's better than losing it."

"True," Morgan conceded. "Unless it turns purple and drops off tomorrow."

"The power of _positive_ thinking," Amy replied, "is a wonderful thing."

She dished up a slice of McCain lasagne, colouring the plates with yellow corn, green peas and orange carrots. Across the bench, Morgan wasn't looking so good. Her face was pale and drawn; every time she moved her damaged fingers she winced.

"Try not to focus on the pain," Amy advised, adding the final touch to the first home-made dinner Morgan had eaten since the invasion: mashed potato. She grabbed the tomato sauce from the pantry. "Take some Panadol and be careful not to use your bad hand. Here, take some of these." She indicated to the plates.

"You mean _one_," Morgan replied gloomily, raising her sore hand pointedly, and one eyebrow incredulously. Amy laughed sheepishly. God, she could be so scatterbrained sometimes. It was extremely embarrassing_._

"Take this one," she said hastily, offering one of the plates, and taking two herself. "Guys, dinner!"

Dinner was a quiet affair. With Morgan uncharacteristically down, Daniel his usual grouchy self, Matt and Nick silent, Brody distant, and Emma absent, Amy wasn't sure whether she should even bother trying to make friendly conversation. It seemed everyone was in their own world tonight. She decided not to try and drag them out.

* * *

**March 17 – 19:13**

Doing the dishes, Amy realised that she'd never felt so mature for her meagre sixteen years. She'd never been particularly resourceful; she'd never been the one to show initiative. Hannah had always been much more organised, Jack more intelligent. Amy was just the not-so-special one in the middle. And here she was now, practically running a household by herself. Hell, she'd even just cooked dinner. If Hannah were there, she'd have owed someone big bucks.

Amy's hands stopped scrubbing. Her eyes sobered; her smile faded. Hannah…

The last time her dad had called was four days ago. Her mobile was still plugged into the charger; she refused to remove it, just in case there was something wrong with the battery. Any moment she got to hear her mother's voice was more precious than a chest of treasure; she wouldn't risk getting cut-off when their conversations were too few. They were already far too short.

She didn't notice the water growing cold around her still hands; she was miles away. Amy wondered soberly whether they believed it yet. That Hannah was truly gone. Last she'd heard even Jack hadn't been able to get through to them…

The front door burst open. Amy jumped so violently she smacked her hand against the tap. Tears sprang to her eyes; she bit back a foul curse and wrenched her hands from the lukewarm water, whipping around to face the newcomer, soap-sudded fingers searching frantically for her pendant.

"Chill," Emma snapped, striding through without so much as a glance. "It's just me."

"You could give us some warning," Amy called irritably after her, caressing her throbbing hand now that the threat of danger had passed. Holy crap, it hurt.

"You should always be on your guard," Emma retorted snarkily. She disappeared down the hall. Amy dropped the tea towel and followed.

"Where've you been?" she asked, trying _not _to sound demanding. Emma would only flare up and bite back if she felt pressured. She'd been learning the hard way ever since they'd met.

"Get off my back, Marshall," Emma warned. Her corner of the room was alarmingly neat. None of them had very many personal belongings, but it was almost like her space had been sterilised, it was so clean. Emma reached and yanked a jacket out of her small bag of clothes.

"You're going again?" Amy could hardly believe it. "What the hell, Emma?"

"Seriously, I'm not in the mood," Emma growled. "Go… clean, or something."

Pulling her arms roughly through the sleeves, she strode back down the hall, Amy trotting at her heels like a lost puppy.

"Wait!" she called, as Emma opened the door again. "_Where are you going_?"

"Where the fuck do you think, dipshit?" Emma exploded. "To do something productive with my short time on this waste of a fucking planet! I'm going back to the goddamn hospital. Shit's actually happening there, dumbass!"

The door slammed boomingly behind her.

* * *

**March 17 – 19:26**

"I can't believe recovering from a Chimera fight isn't productive enough for her," Morgan muttered angrily, glaring at an inoffensive Chimera bobbing complacently nearby. The evening was thick around them; dusk was heavy today. It was getting harder to see as the sun sank further behind the city.

"I can't believe we're stalking that bitch to the hospital," Daniel growled contemptuously. "This is pathetic."

"Emma said something's happening there," Amy said defensively.

"And if Emma told you to jump off a cliff, would you?" Daniel retorted childishly. Amy chose not to reply; she didn't really like Daniel, if they were being completely honest. But then, she supposed that being friends mattered less than surviving. As long as they all kept living, they didn't have to like each other.

They were met by a pleasant blast of warm air as the doors slid open. It was lively and busy inside, but in a way that still felt organised; under control. There were people everywhere. The teenagers set off without examining anyone or anything, their eyes sharp for a glimpse of Emma. They made it – disappointingly and discouragingly – all the way to the quiet third floor before anyone spotted anything odd.

"There's a light on," Brody muttered, nodding surreptitiously at the store room just ahead. They approached the door and crowded around, peering through the little glass window. The room beyond was small and crammed with metal shelving. An assortment of medical products was organised into labelled tubs. In the corner was a small refrigerator with its glass door open. A medical practitioner of some sort knelt in front of it, searching through the hundreds of tiny vials for something.

"What's he looking for?" Morgan whispered to herself. Suspicion was heavy in her voice, but she stopped herself short. He was a doctor. It wasn't abnormal for him to be looking through the vaccinations fridge. Her neck warmed faintly with sheepishness.

There was an echoing 'ding!' from down the corridor and they all wheeled in alarm. The elevator doors slid open smoothly, revealing several white-coated people around a stretcher-bed. Amy caught Morgan's panic-stricken face. They looked extremely shifty, loitering around the store room.

"Down here." Daniel had streaked ahead and was opening the door to a new room. Tossing up whether it would be wiser to walk casually, like there was absolutely nothing suspicious about their being in the hallway, or simply making a mad dash to avoid trouble, Amy followed the others. Morgan hesitated for a second, then trailed quickly after them.

That tiny pause was the key to their future.

As Morgan whirled into the room and they shut the door over, the stretcher-bed passed by, and she caught a fragment of a glimpse of it before the door shut completely. She gasped.

"What?" Daniel demanded, immediately alarmed.

"It's that boy!" Morgan said in a hushed voice. "The one from the x-ray!"

She reached for the handle before anyone else could speak, pulling the door open again.

"Wait, Morg–" But, impulsive as she was, Morgan had already slipped out and disappeared.

"Go with her," Brody commanded a second later, pulling the door wider to push Daniel into the corridor. He turned to protest, but Brody shut the door in his face, turning back to the rest. "Right. We wait thirty seconds, then you–" he spoke directly to Amy "–go and check if that doctor is still in the storeroom. If it's clear, signal back to us. If not…"

"Got it," Amy replied. He didn't need to elaborate. If there were people inside, bail. "What about Emma?"

Brody shrugged. "She'll be fine. And too bad if she's not. Ready?"

Amy nodded; he pulled the door open a crack, and she slipped out into the corridor like a shadow.

* * *

**March 17 – 19:37**

"Excuse me!" Morgan called, thinking of a plan as she went. Footsteps echoed behind her; a second later, Daniel was glowering next to her. She shot him a bemused look and turned back around when an older voice answered, "Yes?"

The stretcher-bed had come to a halt ahead, and the two doctors were looking at her expectantly, a little suspiciously. She walked up to the bed, wondering what to say next without blowing it.

"I know him," she said, pointing at the pale-faced boy in the bed. "That's Andy. He's my cousin's friend." The lie became easier the more she spoke it. Thank God she'd remembered the kid's name. "Sorry, I'm just wondering–" she attempted to make her voice as innocently curious as possible "–is he okay?"

The doctors glanced at each other, and back at her. She wondered what they'd just shared – what they'd communicated wordlessly; she wanted to know what it was. What they were thinking. What was hidden behind those passive expressions? Was it sinister?

"He's very unwell," one doctor replied grimly. "We're doing our best for him."

"Oh," Morgan replied, keeping up her act. She wondered if she was going overboard; she didn't want to seem too childish. "Okay. Thanks. I hope he gets better soon. Sorry to bother you."

"No worries," the other doctor replied. With a short nod at the two teens, they wheeled the boy away. As soon as they were out of earshot, Daniel rounded on Morgan.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Shh!" Morgan snapped. "Shut up, you retard!" She chewed her lip for a second. How long should she give them before following? She didn't want to walk around the corner and have them spot her. It would be blatantly obvious they hadn't _just happened _to bump into the stretcher before. A door clicked shut somewhere further down. Morgan sighed.

"What the f–?"

"I want to know what's happening to him," Morgan snapped across him.

Daniel looked bewildered. "You're fucking obsessed. Let it go; he's just some kid."

But Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was about to happen. It was bothering her; she was restless and fidgety. She wanted to _move_; standing here doing nothing was almost excruciating. They could be missing something important.

With a fleeting glance at Daniel, Morgan started up the hall again. She heard him curse under his breath behind her, then muffled footsteps as he hurried to catch her up. She paused at the corner, taking a breath before peeking slowly around. Daniel's form loomed above her.

"You're fucking mental."

"Shh!" she hissed, glaring up at him. His eyes glowered down in return. Morgan looked back around, just in time to spot the doctors wheel the last of the stretcher though a door. It snapped shut behind them of its own accord.

"Now what?" Daniel practically sneered.

"You wanna go back to the others and wait for me there?" Morgan shot back. "'Cause you're seriously pissing me off right now."

He gave a self-satisfied smirk. She rolled her eyes, understanding at last how Mackenzie could have loathed this troublesome human being for so many years. He was just so damned… _irritating._ Daniel shrugged lazily, his unruly brown hair falling in his eyes.

"Right. Well shut up and follow, or run back to Brody. They're your options."

Without another word, Morgan stalked off towards the room. She slowed upon nearing it, and stopped to peek in cautiously through the thin strip of glass in the middle of the door. Through the small window she glanced a room identical to Max and Terry's, containing several resting teenagers. The closest to the door was Andy. The two doctors were busy moving around him, hardly even looking at the boy between them.

As Morgan watched, one lifted a plastic syringe into the air, testing it with a sharp flick. Liquid spurted from the tip. He glanced at the other, who nodded. The doctor with the needle approached the side of sleeping Andy, and with a heavy sigh, murmured something indecipherable before upturning his arm. He lowered the syringe to the skin, and Morgan clenched her eyes shut, turning her head away, feeling suddenly nauseous. Needles; her phobia.

"Sick," Daniel muttered absently above her, impressed.

"_You're_ sick," Morgan scowled, turning her gaze back to the window. The doctors had finished with Andy and were moving to the side of the next bed. They gave each patient the an injection. Morgan chewed her lip.

"What do you think it is?" she asked Daniel, in spite of being irritated with him. She felt him shrug above her.

"Fucked if I know."

"Helpful," she muttered sarcastically. "Shit!"

They leaped back from the door as the doctors suddenly appeared on the other side, but it was far too late. They'd most definitely been seen, and now the door opened to reveal two pairs of narrowed, suspicious eyes.

Morgan's stomach fell away.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Cains - **hurts a heck of a lot.

**McCain** - I have no idea how long they've been around, but they're well-known for making frozen dishes. Pizza and pasta, mostly :)

**Fucked if I know** - lol everyone says this. It's just... we have a lovely way with words XD;

**Sorry about the lack of Australian culture in recent chapters, guys. I'll make more of an effort to write more Aussie stuff into upcoming chapters :)**

* * *

**A/N: Oh dear. Morgan just had to go and put her foot in it, didn't she? Curiosity did kill the cat, as they say... Will our heroes be able to get out of this predictably sticky situation? And what will the others find in their explorations? Read on to find out :)**

**Thanks for reading. If you feel like it, I'd love a review :3**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	18. Seventeen

**August 21, 2010.**

**A/N: Sorry, Solacers! I completely forgot to update last week! D: I'll update twice this week as compensation.**

**Only 2 reviews until 50, guys! We can do it; SfS's had over 200 hits this month! _Please _review. It'll take two seconds. Promise.**

**On a random note: today is the Australian Federal Election, so I have to go and vote (for the first time EVER!), since I'm now legally of age :D How exciting! Shame I have little interest for politics XD**

**That's all. Happy reading :)**

* * *

**Searching for Solace**

**- SEVENTEEN -**

* * *

**March 17 – 19:42**

Amy closely examined the labelled vials on the shelves before her. Cool air brushed across her face, swirling from the freezing refrigerator. She reached for one vial and lifted it from its tray, hoping to make some sense of it. Unfortunately, she was no medic, and didn't understand any of she was looking at.

"Got anything?" Brody asked.

"No," she replied, tossing her red fringe out of her face. "I don't know what any of it is."

"Let me see." Nick appeared at her side and bent down, his grey eyes curious. He glanced shyly at her and away as quickly, back to the vials. Understanding, Amy crawled back and stood up to give him access to the fridge. The neon light in the door reflected off the many piercings invading his face.

To her right, Brody was examining the spines of books shoved roughly on the shelves. He looked altogether too big for the small room; like a giant squashed into a normal-sized kitchen. _Fi, Fie, Fo, Fum_…

"Manuals," he muttered in frustration, his surly eyebrows frowning down over his eyes. "Nothing useful."

"They're mostly standard vaccines," Nick's soft voice declared. Amy glanced at him; he was closely examining several vials, his eyes bright. "Flu-vax. Hep C. Boostrix. But these…" He held up a clear vial with a plain white stopper and minimal details on the sticker. "I don't know what they are."

Brody lumbered over and snatched one of the vials in question, narrowing his eyes at it. "Hand-written."

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "Abnormal."

The door sporadically opened behind them, and in one smooth movement Brody had swept the newcomer to one side, his iron-strong arms locking them to his chest so they couldn't move. Amy and Nick had both sprung backwards in alarm. The door swung shut quietly, the only noise in the heavily tense room.

The person in Brody's arms gave a small, frightened whimper. They all looked at her closely. She was very small and very slim, garbed in the green scrubs of an intern getup. Her round black-brown eyes were wide with fear and alarm, a few strands of wiry black falling across her smooth, olive forehead, straying from underneath her cap. She glanced from Nick to Amy in fright and whimpered again.

"Let her go, Brody," Amy said, exhaling. "I think she's okay. Block the door though, in case she tries to bolt."

Moving to barricade the door with his huge form, Brody slowly loosened his arms from around the Asian intern, letting her wriggle away.

"Hi," Amy said, smiling cheerfully. Her heart thudded frantically behind the friendly façade. They were in deep trouble now. Who knew who this little girl would run off and report to? There was no point in trying to act innocent when they'd been so obviously caught red-handed. She swallowed and tried to work out the best manner to approach the situation.

"Who are you?" the Asian intern stammered, her voice sharp. Her eyes, however, betrayed her gentle nature and her fear. "What you doing here?"

She sniffled through her flat nose. Chinese? Amy wondered. Korean?

"Inconsequential," Brody said gruffly.

"Who are you?" Amy asked in a more gentle tone. She shot a warning glance at Brody, who frowned a little in response. He wasn't one to trust easily; she could see in his expression that he wanted out as soon as possible.

"Li Guan-Yin," the intern replied. "I work here. You should not be here."

"No shit," Brody muttered under his breath.

"But this is perfect," Amy said brightly. He glanced at her in confusion. "We can question her. She'll be able to tell us stuff."

"If she talks," Nick's voice came quietly from her right.

"I tell you nothing!" the intern gasped in alarm, her eyes searching the door frantically. Amy could visibly see the anguish in her eyes when she confirmed there was no exit. "Ask me nothing! I cannot tell."

Amy grinned at Brody. "She'll break. Look at her; she's already freaking out."

Brody lowered the suspicious little vial still in his hand, holding it in front of Guan-Yin's face. Her black eyes widened in surprise and undeniable recognition.

"What's this?"

She shook her head vehemently. "I do not know."

"Yes you do," Amy replied calmly. "We're just curious. Nothing suss. We know what everything else is." She nodded towards the fridge. "Just not this one."

"It not important," Guan-Yin said firmly.

"So what does it do?" Amy asked again. "If it's unimportant it shouldn't matter if we know what it is, right?"

Guan-Yin squirmed under her gaze. She fidgeted anxiously with her hands. "You should go. This not safe place. Very dangerous."

"Well, yeah, we figured that out," Brody replied with a short barking laugh.

Guan-Yin glanced up at him. "So what you doing here?"

Amy grinned at her. "Exploring."

"She knows too much about us already," Brody said gruffly. "She'd recognise us now if she saw us again. What do we do with her? She can't be let loose in this place if it's as dangerous as she says. Someone might figure out who we are."

"Or what we are," Amy agreed. Guan-Yin glanced between them. Amy could see she was putting the pieces together, and practically pin-pointed the exact moment the last piece fell into place.

"Oh!" Guan-Yin's face was shocked. "You are… mutants!"

"Nice work," Brody growled at Amy. "Now we have to either dispose of her or take her with us."

Guan-Yin didn't like these options at all. She tried for the handle of the door, shoving her arm vainly behind Brody's back. He glanced down at her, shoving his weight against the wood. After a moment of flailing, she gave up, sagging against the wall. "What you want?"

"We want to know what this is," Amy repeated, pointing at the vial in Brody's grasp. Guan-Yin looked between them, searching their firm expressions, then visibly caved, wringing her hands anxiously.

"Okay… I tell you."

* * *

**March 17 – 19:46**

"Well, it doesn't look severe." The doctor brushed the shiny pink skin on Morgan's hand with light, gentle fingertips. "How did you acquire this burn again?"

"Steam," Morgan blurted, praying it was the same excuse she'd given before, when she'd babbled their way out of trouble in the hall. "From the kettle. I got too close when it boiled."

The doctor nodded to himself, grunting a little under his breath. The eyes behind the oval glasses were crinkled with age at the corners. He blinked contemplatively several times, turning her hand over in his fingers. Morgan prayed he wasn't suspicious of where her injury had really come from. Please let him just buy the story, she worried silently.

In the corner, Daniel was watching, his eyes tense. He still couldn't believe the doctors had believed Morgan's bullshit story about them hanging in the hallway, waiting for the doctors, hoping they could examine her 'burns'. It was a load of crock, and surely they'd seen through it. No-one would actually believe such obvious crap. He was expecting the doctor to leap up at any moment and declare that the game was up.

Mind you, he wasn't sure what the doctor was going to accuse them of, other than loitering in the corridor and acting suspicious. Could he call the cops over that?

"Make sure you change the dressing daily," the doctor advised, carefully wrapping the gauze back around her hand. Daniel glanced at her damaged fingers and looked away again. It wasn't exactly a pretty sight.

"Any certified nurse can re-dress it for you," the doctor continued, barely even acknowledging Daniel in the room. "Wound management is always bulk billed. And you might want to try some Aloe Vera. Massage it gently into the burn. It'll sting a bit, but it'll help the skin heal faster."

"Okay, thanks," Morgan replied with a grateful smile Daniel wasn't entirely sure was faked. The doctor rose from his chair.

"You're lucky you caught me between patients."

Morgan forced an easy laugh. "We're in a bit of a rush," she lied. "Waiting rooms always take forever. Thank you for looking at my hand so quickly."

He smiled and nodded at her. "You're welcome. Excuse me for dashing off, but I have a tight schedule." He made for the door.

"Of course. Sorry," Morgan called after him. The door closed swiftly after him. She let out an audible sigh and looked at Daniel, relief in her eyes.

"Now let's get the fuck out of here before they send people after us," he said tersely. They made their way into the corridor and back-tracked the way they'd come. The spare room was only a few doors down from Andy's room, and Morgan immediately stalked towards it.

"Morgan, we have to go," Daniel grumbled, catching her up and grabbing her arm. "We don't have time to play here anymore. People will get suspicious."

"Two seconds," she promised, yanking her arm free and pulling open the door. "You keep watch."

Inside, she walked to Andy's bed. He was still sleeping; his face peaceful. She gazed at him for a second, listening to the silence of the room. After several heartbeats, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Something wasn't right. The silence was… too silent. That's what it was. She strained her ears for the sound of shallow breathing, but found none.

Five patients in the room, and she couldn't hear a single breath. Her heart hammered furiously, drumming heavily with instinctive alarm. She moved closer to Andy's side, leaning down over him, her cheek close to his lips. Nothing. No breath at all. She leaned back, her mouth suddenly dry, and reached for his wrist, feeling the colour draining from her cheeks.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong here.

The lack of pulse under the sallow skin wasn't a surprise. It only confirmed her fears. Dropping the hand like it was a deadly snake, Morgan skittered away from the bed, her skin prickling with horror. No way. He couldn't be… She forced her suddenly rubbery legs to the next bed, daring herself to check the next kid's pulse without letting herself really think about it.

Again, absent. Nausea swilled in her stomach. She refused to let herself believe that every patient in the room was–

"Morgan, we've gotta bounce."

Daniel's voice made her jump so violently she crashed into one of the beds. He stared at her as she pulled herself together, straightening the stretcher with violently trembling hands.

"What?"

"G-go," she stammered. "Let's go. I'll–tell–later. Just go!"

She pushed him into the corridor and stumbled out after him, hurrying off up the hall without a backward glance.

"Morgan, what the hell?" Daniel demanded, striding effortlessly beside her. He glanced down at her, taking in her colourless face and wild eyes. She licked her lips continuously, her fingers jammed in the pockets of her jeans. Her shoulders were tensed up.

She opened her mouth to reply but a door bounced open just to their left, and they threw themselves aside to avoid colliding with the small procession of people that poured out. The first, they realised with surprise, was Amy.

"Hi," she greeted, smiling through her own surprise. "Fancy meeting you guys here."

"Who's that?" Daniel demanded, tilting his jaw towards the small Asian girl in their company. Morgan's eyes widened, her suffering stomach dropping all over again.

"You!" the Asian exclaimed, staring at her in shock. "I remember you!"

"Okay, well let's host this reunion later over tea and biscuits," Brody grunted sarcastically. "We've gotta get outta here."

"Agreed," Daniel replied. "But _who is she_?"

"This is Guan-Yin," Amy said cheerfully. "She knows stuff."

"Great," Daniel said sarcastically, as they all started moving. "Why is she with us?"

"Tell you later," Brody replied over his shoulder. "But we have to take her with us. It's too dangerous to leave her here."

"I see." Daniel didn't look too pleased about it. "That reminds me." He turned back to Morgan, who looked very distant and consumed by her own thoughts. She was chewing her lip anxiously. "What the fuck was happening back there?"

"Tell you later," Morgan muttered shortly.

Daniel threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "Why does it feel like I'm the only one who has no idea what's going on?"

No-one replied. They all just kept walking.

* * *

**CULTURE NOTE**

**Boostrix** - Do you guys have Boostrix shots? I can't explain what they're for, exactly, but it's a standard shot in Australia. Costs about $24AUD for the injection.

**Nothing suss** - Nothing suspicious. I think everyone says this?

**Load of crock** - Load of shit, basically. Do you guys even use that phrase, or is that something else that's Aussie? 'Load of shit' is like... 'that's bullshit', etc.

**Bulk bill** - Again, I reckon all medical systems would have it. Yeah? Bulk bill... you don't have to pay for the appointment because the doctor claims his service from the government...? Well, we have it here. Darned useful :)

**Biscuits** - I have it on good authority that in America, you don't really have biscuits like we do. To us, a biscuit is sweet - an Oreo for example, is a biscuit. We have loads of different kinds. Plain sweet biscuits, jam-filled bisuits, biscuits with icing, chocolate biscuits... Mmm. It's quite an English thing; it must come from our heritage ;)

* * *

**NOTES**

**Aloe Vera - **I looked this up. Apparently it IS very good for keeping the skin healthy and moisturised, and for the gentle maintenance of light burns. I wouldn't, however, trust this note if you ever burn yourself. Go to a doctor and get some professional advice XD;;

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**A/N: And so Nicholas the mute finally speaks! Yes, readers, I decided it was time for the poor child to have a voice :) So Nick has become a more solid part of the story. But what's the deal with Guan-Yin? What exactly does she know? And what's the truth behind everything Morgan found in that depressing hospital room? Well, perhaps you'll find out later this week.**

**Until then, please do leave a review. You honestly have no idea how appreciated they are these days.**

**Love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	19. Eighteen

**March 15, 2011.**

**A/N: Hi Solacers!**

**So, yeah, I know it's been forever and a day (well, roughly seven months) since I last updated, but I simply couldn't leave this story on hiatus after it's recent achievement of the 50th review. I planned on updating sooner, but I hit a rough patch of drought in the muse well, and writer's block got the better of me. I've got a few more chapters written and ready for uploading; it depends on how well this is received. I'm still tossing up discontinuation, just because I'm not sure whether there's enough love for it anymore. I've got a handful of things to work on for FF net, so if I have to cut this one off, so be it. :(**

**That said! Here's another update - thanks heaps to the lucky 50th reviewer, fellow Aussie Keiko-Mars (kudos to you!); this chapter's for you. Thanks heaps, also, to KyasarinFreakload, who has supported this story from the get-go, and I think still does. Kisses to you, as always, for keeping my writing spirit alive.**

**Some answers should be addressed in this chapter (from memory), so things should start to make a little more sense now. Huzzah! :D**

**Happy reading, everyone. x**

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**Searching for Solace**

**- EIGHTEEN -**

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**March 17 – 20:15**

The apartment was cold and empty when they poured through the door. Amy began flicking on lights and hit the electric kettle, immediately fishing around in the cupboards for some snacks. Brody and Daniel flanked Guan-Yin and led her into the small lounge room, where they set her down on the sofa and kept a casual but careful eye on her in case she made to bolt. She now knew their location, as well as their identity. It was far too dangerous having her wandering around with that kind of information.

Amy and Morgan appeared in the doorway, followed by Nick and Matt, who had slept most of the day away. Daniel glanced first at his mate in worry – he was extremely withdrawn these days, and barely spoke to anyone anymore – and then at Morgan, who still looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"Right," Brody said, breaking the ice. "Let's get this show on the road."

"First," Amy said, frowning at him, "would you like a Tim-Tam, Guan-Yin?" She offered the packet. The Asian girl shook her head, politely inclining. Daniel reached over and grabbed two, shoving one aggressively in his mouth. Amy wrinkled her nose pointedly. He stared back evenly. Annoying little bitch.

"Anyone else?" Amy asked, shooting a scowl over her shoulder as she turned her back on Daniel. He lounged lazily against the wall. The Tim-Tams were sat on the floor, and they began.

"Who first?" Morgan asked, her voice strangely weak, for her usual self. Daniel glanced at her again, wondering what had thrown her out. She hadn't been herself since she'd gone back into that bloody room at the hospital.

"Her," Brody said, nodding at the Asian intern. He raised his voice, his gaze unflinching as it rested on their anxious hostage. "You said you'd tell us about this vial." He held up something Daniel hadn't noticed he had in his possession – a thin glass tube with a clear solution in it.

The Asian girl sighed heavily. Daniel could see her trembling from where he stood. She was shit scared.

"It is…" she trailed off. Brody opened his mouth to growl, but Amy threw up one hand sharply.

"Give her a moment," she snapped. Daniel watched the Asian girl struggling to find the right words. Her forehead creased as she thought.

"This is…" she flailed, then settled for, "like poison."

There were collective gasps from Morgan and Amy. A jolt of shock bolted through Daniel.

"Poison?" Brody demanded, frowning heavily. "Why?"

The Asian shifted nervously. "I not know–"

"Bullshit," Daniel swore, shooting her a glare. She withered under his fierce gaze. "Don't lie to us."

She swallowed audibly. Everyone was silent as they waited.

"I can't tell you," she wailed, eyes pleading fearfully. "They will kill me!"

"So will we!" Brody threatened. Everybody else glanced at him sharply, astonished. He softened a little. "Well, not really, but you need to understand how important it is that you tell us."

Amy shook her head slightly to herself, turning back to the intern.

"Please tell us," she said gently. "This could help us."

"I know," the intern replied, looking at her. "That why I can't tell you. Secret."

"I wonder who else isn't supposed to know about it," Morgan murmured quietly. She cleared her throat and spoke louder. "Who is the poison for?" Something in her shrewd expression made Daniel wonder if she perhaps already knew more than she was letting on. He frowned a little, questioning why she would keep that information, if she did.

The intern squirmed uncomfortably again. "Not for normal people."

"Normal…" Brody replied. "As in, healthy people?"

"No."

"What do you mean, 'normal people'?" Amy asked. The intern held her breath for a long moment, shrinking under six intense gazes. She seemed to be fighting a huge battle within herself, and it raged for a good few seconds before she visibly folded, exhaling in defeat.

"Okay… I tell you everything I know."

"It's for the mutants, isn't it?" Morgan asked, her eyes bright. Again Daniel had the feeling she already knew the answer.

The intern looked at her. "Yes."

Amy gasped again. Brody grunted. Morgan nodded almost imperceptively to herself. But Daniel caught it. He decided not to call her out on it just yet. What the intern had to say was, for the meantime, much more important.

"Only for the mutants?" Brody demanded.

The intern nodded. "Only mutant cells contract. When gets into the bloodstream and into heart, patient dies. Almost immediately effective. Only take few minutes."

Amy sucked in a horrified breath. "Why, though?"

The intern's eyes were almost sorrowful as she delivered the awful truth. She looked at Amy, her expression pleading for forgiveness. "This not from Earth." She nodded at the vial. "They give this to hospital to give to mutants."

It clicked.

"The doctors are working for the enemy," Daniel spat, realisation dawning on him. "When injured mutants are admitted to the hospital, the doctors are killing them off with this poisonous shit, rather than helping them get better."

He looked at the intern, his expression loathsome. How he'd love to get his fingers around her traitorous little throat…

"That's so awful!" Amy cried, her voice horrified, wavering. Her eyes swam with unshed tears of compassion for those who had died in pain, thinking they were in safe hands, unsuspecting of their fate.

"But how can they tell?" Brody demanded, frowning heavily. "It doesn't make sense. Look at Matt and Nick. You can't tell from appearance which is a mutant and which is not."

The intern looked to Morgan, who nodded her understanding. Morgan's voice was quiet. "The gene scan." She took a breath, looking extremely unhappy. "I was wrong. They weren't testing for presence of Chimera blood. They were testing for mutated genes… for _Mew _genes."

Brody smacked a hand to his forehead with staggering force. "Of course. It's so obvious now."

"So," Amy clarified in her wavering little girl voice, "they run a test to see if the patient is a Mew or not, and if they are… they kill them?"

The silence was so heavy, so thick it could be cut by a knife. Slowly, the intern said, "Yes."

Daniel swore violently. "Fucking traitors! Selling out their own kind to those filthy freaks! Makes me sick!"

"But it's tactical," Brody sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Imagine how many of us the enemy will be able to wipe out through the Alfred. It's the only big hospital in the eastern suburbs still in operation. _So many victims will be going there. _In terms of strategy, it's brilliant." He shuddered, looking suddenly exhausted.

"We have to get Max out," Morgan said hoarsely. She cleared her throat, blinking back her moment of weakness. "She can't die in there."

"Well we'd better move fast then." Daniel laughed humourlessly, his stomach churning. "Didn't you say they've already done her scan?"

Morgan nodded miserably. "They might have already given her the shot." The dam broke. Tears flooded her cheeks. Amy was instantly by her side, her skinny arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, her expression helplessly compassionate.

"She'll be okay," she promised, though it was empty. No-one had any way of knowing that. Daniel's heart felt suddenly heavy. She could be dead and none of them would even know.

"What did you see?" Daniel demanded, his voice flat. Emotionless. He directed the question at Morgan, who looked up with bleary eyes.

"Where?"

"In that room. At the hospital." He stared levelly at her. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes and dripped off her eyelashes. Her bottom lip quivered.

"They were all dead."

Daniel's knees threatened to give out, but he locked them, fighting the intense urge to vomit. It was all too true, too suddenly. And it was too much for a bunch of simple teenagers. There was no escaping the reality of this horrible conversation. No waking up from it. The evidence was everywhere, even in Brody's thick hands. Brody stared at the innocent little vial, looking like he might throw it violently against the wall at any moment. His eyes blazed with hot fury.

Daniel sucked in a shaky breath. They needed to change topic, fast. Before everyone had meltdowns.

"What about kids like Mackenzie?" he demanded, quietly pleased at the strength in his voice. The intern looked at him, confused.

"There are theories," Morgan explained, sniffling as she pulled herself together, "that the monsters are poisonous. Our friend was attacked by one, and she's been sick ever since. She just keeps getting worse and worse. I think… I think she's dying." Her voice caught on the last word, her emotions threatening to break again. She fought back. It required a great deal of effort.

"This true," the intern confirmed. "But only if Chimera blood gets into circulatory system. Not fatal if exterior to body." Morgan glanced down at her hand, her heart practically dead in her chest. Max was dying. Or, of course, the doctors could have already gotten to her. Either way, there was no saving her best friend. She was too crushed to even cry. She couldn't breathe. Her head reeled dizzily.

The teenagers glanced among themselves, dismayed and anguished. Could life get any worse? Their homes invaded by a ruthless alien species, their families ripped apart, their friends dead or dying, with no way of stopping the tremendous force destroying their world.

"Is… is there _anything _we can do?" Amy whispered weakly, feeling pessimistic. Right now, it was hard to find any reason to keep on living. It seemed dead ends reared up on all sides. Suddenly, even humanity couldn't be trusted. The world had become a lethally fragile planet.

"There is antidote," the intern said simply, seemingly relieved that she could deliver some good news in their black hour.

Morgan's breath gushed out, like it had been knocked from her. "What?"

"There is?" Amy gasped excitedly, hope suddenly given a glorious rebirth.

The intern nodded. "Also alien medicine. Works very fast."

The hope burning in Morgan's eyes was so fiercely intense that Daniel wondered for a moment if she might have teetered over the edge of madness.

"Is it at the hospital?" she demanded.

"Yes."

"Do you know where it is?"

The intern was quiet, catching on.

"Do you?" Morgan pressed furiously.

"… Yes, but–"

"Done. We're going in the morning," Morgan said with a finality Daniel doubted anyone would dare oppose. "We're getting her out of there, and we're getting that antidote." She turned to the intern, who flinched like she'd been slapped. "And _you _are helping us."

The intern said nothing; just accepted her fate glumly. She seemed to have weighed her chances. One weak-willed medic against six determined teenagers. She wasn't getting out of it, or making any escapes anytime soon.

"Set up a mattress for her in here," Morgan ordered, efficient now that her life had purpose once more. "We'll take turns guarding her. Brody, you take first watch, okay?"

"Fine," he muttered gruffly.

"Right. We need a plan–" Morgan was saying when the front door burst open, banging the wall violently and almost smashing a hole in the plaster with the handle.

Everyone jumped up, instantly ready for combat, fingers reaching hastily for pendants.

Emma exploded into the room like a fireball of wild blonde hair and blazing green cat eyes. "Fuckwits! You'll never guess what I discovered! The doctors at the Alfred, they're fucking–"

"Working for the aliens," Daniel cut across her, almost wishing he had a camera to capture her pricelessly astonished expression. "And the gene scans detect Mew genes, and then they use a special alien serum to kill them. Yeah, we know."

She was stunned into silence for a moment, then scowled and said, "Fuck! What the fuck? How the fuck do you guys already know that? And who the fuck is that?" She'd just noticed the intern sitting rigidly on the couch.

"Sit down, _fuckwit_," Daniel said with emphasis, taking personal pleasure in finally being superior to her and putting her in her place. "We've got a lot to tell you."

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**CULTURE NOTE**

**Tim-Tam - **An extremely Aussie sweet biscuit; very famous. Basically consists of chocolate malt paste sandwiched between two chocolate biscuits, and coated with milky chocolate. Mmm... I have a pack of double-coated Tim-Tams in my fridge at the moment. There really is nothing like them anywhere. :)

**Bloody** - again, in this context, it doesn't actually mean 'blood', but 'stupid'. In sentences like this, 'bloody' is an expression of displeasure.

**Shit scared** - very commonly used in slang. Emphasis is, obviously, on how frightened/terrified someone is. Most often said person was VERY scared. Having said that, it's really only used when the situation was amusing, but it is still used sometimes for serious fear.

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**I hope a lot of this technical stuff is conceivable. I obviously had to make it up, but I hope it makes sense. **

**I've worked hard to avoid inconsistencies and gaps, but there might be a few little ones here and there. I know there's one big one from earlier on (that hopefully none of you, fingers crossed, have noticed yet) that I'm knotting out in future chapters. It's going to take a bit of work to figure that one out though; stupid me. It's too hard to change it though, so I just have to work with what I've already got. **

**Oh well. Everyone loves a good challenge. :)**

**Story's going to move along again now. The slow hospital stuff is almost done. Huzzah! There's a good scene coming up, which is one of my all-time fave scenes ever written from any of my stories. Might even be in the next chapter, actually. Anyway, I've been looking forward to getting that one up, so fingers crossed it's well-received, or it might break my heart haha.**

**Review button's just below. :) **

**Much love,**

**Cherrie xx**


	20. Nineteen

**April 27, 2011.**

**A/N:** Greetings, Solacers, from the windy beauty of a chilly Melbourne autumn evening!

Yes, it's that time of year when all the leaves explode into violent colour, and now they're all starting to curl and fade to brown. Winter's on the way - we've already got the little-too-on-the-fresh side mornings. It's getting really hard to convince myself to leave my cosy bed. Whoever created the electric blanket, I want your autograph. Fo' serious. XD

Onto more pressing matters. I thought it was about time I sat down and tried to update. Things have been so busy lately; balancing three jobs and a full-time uni load takes a lot more out of you than I expected. o_o

BUT! That's no excuse to blow off my readers, so I'm setting aside some time tonight to give you a little something to chew on before the annual MA update in May. :)

So here's chapter nineteen. Hope y'all enjoy. Snaps to everyone who reviewed; you really made my day. I wasn't expecting such a great response, so thanks a lot for that. :)

Enjoy. x

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**Searching for Solace**

**- NINETEEN -**

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**March 18 – 09:42**

The doors to the Alfred slid open with a breath of warm air. The calm interior had once been a much-needed relief from their chaotic, adrenaline-fuelled lives, but now it was creepily sinister, foreboding, frightening. Morgan's muscles were tense as she steered a casually-dressed Guan-Yin into the building, her senses alert, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.

If they didn't succeed today – if they got caught – they would die.

The truth hung above their heads like a heavy, threatening black cloud that set them all on edge. Amy was jumpy, Nick nervous-looking, Emma just that bit too tense. Even Brody, whose face was normally so impassionate, whose eyes were rarely windows to his emotions, looked wary, with his broad shoulders hunched and his muscly arms shoved in his jean pockets.

After filling Emma in on the happenings of their afternoon, they'd gone to sleep, taking turns watching over Guan-Yin as she lay curled on her mattress. In the morning, they'd forced her into some of Amy's spare clothes – her lithe Asian body was so tiny that anybody else's were ridiculously baggy – and herded her down to the hospital. Now they were about to put their plan into motion, and they were counting on nobody recognising their nervous little hostage.

"Okay," Morgan murmured under her breath, her heart beating in her throat. It was now or never. And never was not an option. "Ready?"

Amy nodded. Daniel jerked his head. Emma glared, but gave a quick, sharp nod.

They split up. Morgan, Daniel and Emma headed for the elevator. Nick, Brody, Amy and Guan-Yin for the stairs. They couldn't risk being in the same place, in case there was trouble. At least if one group was caught, the other might be able to make a getaway.

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**March 18 – 09:53**

Daniel stared tensely down the corridor. It was quiet, mostly deserted. Every few minutes there would come small, innocent noises; voices drifting out of a room, doors opening and closing, a phone ringing. Nothing to be alarmed of. He rubbed his thumbs together habitually. The sooner they got the job done and got out of here, the better. He could hardly wait to be rid of this horrid place, with its dark, traitorous secrets and murderous doctors. God, it was like something out of a horror movie.

"Palmer, get in here," Morgan's voice hissed from behind. They traded places, Morgan's athletic body now garbed in an intern outfit. Her dark hair was hidden in a mesh cap, all but her eyes hidden behind a white mask. She glanced up at him and her eyes darkened at his smirk.

"If you laugh, I swear to God I'll inhabit your ability to reproduce," she snapped in a no-nonsense voice. Daniel held up his hands in a silent peace-offering, swaggering into the small store room. He didn't need to say anything. She knew she looked ridiculous.

Emma, dressed similarly, flashed him a dismissive glance and shoved a folded uniform against his chest. "Say anything and I'll rip your fucking balls off."

Daniel couldn't help but grin. Women. So unnecessarily violent. "Do you mind getting the hell out? Or are you secretly into me?" he asked, deliberately ticking her off. He reached down to lift his t-shirt. It slid up his stomach.

"Fuck off," Emma spat, and stormed out. Daniel was left to change in the silence, with deep satisfaction for company.

Both girls glared hotly when he re-emerged, clothed like them.

Morgan snorted. "And I thought I looked stupid."

Emma gave a short bark of a laugh, and they walked off, their steps in sync. Daniel stared after them, astonished at hteir short-lived unification, if only to team against him. He hadn't thought it possible.

They carefully checked the hospital – floor by floor, room by room – their anxieties gradually building until they were so jumpy that Daniel's sudden shadow against the wall caused them to leap a foot in the air and whirl for an alcove. Emma shot him a furious look, which he assumed stemmed from her embarrassment at being so edgy and easily startled. Morgan chewed her lip worriedly. They were pretty high up now, and they'd checked countless rooms. If they hadn't found Mackenzie yet, then the chances were…

"There," Morgan finally breathed with relief, tension vacating her body so quickly she sagged against the door, her eyes glued to the room behind the glass pane. "We found her. Okay – let's go."

They entered quietly, shutting the door as noiselessly as possible. Morgan was instantly beside Max's stretcher, her face pale with suspense. She raised a shaking hand and hesitated, turning frightened eyes to Daniel. "What if she's…" She couldn't bring herself to say it; her voice caught in her suddenly dry throat. He could see the panic building in her eyes.

"Just do it," he said gruffly. "If we can't save her, we bail ASAP."

There was a long, horrible moment while Morgan slowly pressed her fingertips to Max's throat, searching desperately – hoping…

"She's alive." Morgan was so relieved the second time around that she almost passed out. Daniel – instantly moving into the next phase of their plan – eased her into a chair for a moment and unlocked the stretcher's wheels.

"Get her some water," he ordered. Emma glared at him, glanced at Morgan and gave a scornful snort. But she filled a cup from the tap and shoved it into Morgan's hands nonetheless, wearing a derisive sneer the whole time.

"Pathetic," she hissed, her cerulean eyes glittering. "You're holding us up, you fucking wimp!" Morgan glared.

"Shut up," Daniel snapped, and Emma turned to bite back, but froze. Footsteps were coming along the hall. Morgan sucked her water anxiously, her eyes wide as saucers in her fear. But to their immense fortune, the footsteps kept going.

This time, reminded by the crucial element of time, they all leaped into action.

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**March 18 – 10:13**

"How much longer?" Amy whispered, ducking her head back into the dimly-lit corridor. The linoleum floor squeaked loudly, so they knew well in advance whenever someone was approaching.

"I think she's nearly done," Brody's voice replied. Amy licked her lips, glancing up and down the corridor once more. Then she retreated back into the tiny, cold room.

It was very similar to the store room on the third floor – where they'd run into Guan-Yin – and yet, somehow, this room felt so much more sinister – much more dangerous. At the back of the room, her nose buried in the industrial refrigerators, Guan-Yin was carefully filling a small esky with trays neatly lined with tiny vials. She was murmuring to herself in Chinese – probably praying, or begging for forgiveness, or something. She clearly didn't understand that what she was doing was for _good, _not evil.

"Look," Amy began patiently, watching Nick pacing quietly, his tongue toying with several of the silver piercings in his bottom lip, she could see the movement behind his mask, "I really don't want to pressure you, but we're running out of ti–"

The door opened abruptly, and they all whirled.

"What are you doing in here?" A white-coated doctor frowned heavily at them. Amy felt like she was going to be sick. They'd stopped listening. Why had they stopped listening? She registered the panic freezing her friends in their shoes, and heard her mouth running on auto-pilot.

"A doctor sent us," she blurted, realising afterward how ambiguous and shifty she sounded. It didn't help that they were in plain clothes. She wished they'd swabbed some intern outfits, like the others.

The frown deepened, the eyes above the white mask narrowed. "Which doctor?" She could hear the suspicion in his voice, knew he suspected – he might already _know._ They were gone – finished. In a few seconds, their game would be up. The truth was practically _shouting _him in the face. Intruders…

"Dr. Stevens!" she cried breathlessly. "For… for…"

"For surgery," Brody came to her rescue, in a surprisingly calm voice. "The, uh, surgery… _you know_."

They sounded like complete idiots. Surely it was painfully – _agonisingly – _obvious they were bluffing. Doctors couldn't be this dense. They couldn't. She waited for him to shout, to jump them, to call their bluff and – what? Kill them on the spot?

He surveyed them for a long, terrifying moment. Amy held her breath without realising, her heart hammering violently in her chest. Any second now – _any second_…

"Wait here," the doctor said, staring carefully at them all in turn. It didn't look like he believed them. Oh no – oh no – _oh no_! "I'll get Dr. Stevens. If any of you moves a muscle…" It was a dark threat, and Amy was absolutely terrified.

The moment the door swung shut, there was carefully maintained pandemonium.

"Now what do we do?" Brody growled, his eyes actually frantic for once. "We're screwed. We're so screwed. We're practically dead men walking."

"No, no there has to be an answer," Amy wailed in a whisper, her hands clapped to her face. "There has to be something we can do. This _can't _be the end."

"Keep packing," Nick commanded in his low, dispassionate voice. He was staring solidly at Guan-Yin. She nodded frightfully and, with trembling fingers, packed the last few trays into the esky. Nick slammed the lid down and tucked the box under his arm. Amy stared at him, stunned and impressed. "Now," Nick said, turning to the others, his grey eyes hard, "We run."

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**March 18 – 10:16**

The second the alarm started ringing, Morgan knew something had gone terribly wrong. Somehow, the others had gotten into trouble. She glanced at Emma and Daniel, sharing a frightened, knowing look with them.

Time to move.

They wheeled Max's stretcher as smoothly and quickly as possible into the elevator, trying not to look as though they were running, though that was basically what everyone else in the building was doing. Nurses and doctors raced around in all directions, some expressions worried, frightened or alarmed, others stern, irritated, sharp. They kept what little of their faces showed as expressionless as possible as the elevator doors slid shut, and breathed sighs of relief when it started its smooth descent.

"The moment those doors open," Daniel muttered, "We get her out of here. No looking back."

"We can't just leave them," Morgan argued.

"That was the deal," Emma said sharply. "Get over it, or die with them."

Morgan felt her heart turn to ice. She shuddered. Emma's ruthlessness was so shocking – so crude. She seemed almost as uncompassionate to others as that strange man she'd seen back at Box Hill, in Max's room. As cold and selfish as their hated enemies – was she no better than them?

The doors slid open, and Morgan choked on a gasp of horror.

There he was. Right there, in the corridor. Like clockwork, like he'd followed a cue. Looking at them – at her – like he _knew _who she was_. _Like he'd heard her thoughts or read her mind. Only now he was in the broad light of the industrial ceiling lights, and she could see him very clearly. And for the first time, the young humans caught a glimpse of their enemy. Daniel swore softly.

His skin was whiter than snow and had an odd sheen to it – like silk, Morgan decided. His eyes – so very catlike and long-lashed – were the brightest, most alluring silver, like the stars, or liquid titanium, with black pupils so enormous she felt as though she could fall into them and be swallowed up. Like an endless dark void. The hair falling over his chalk forehead was of the deepest turquoise, tumbling down his back in carefully messy waves. He was strangely effeminate and yet so very, very masculine, with his broad shoulders and hard muscles. He was dressed in what looked like a Japanese dojo outfit – like a jet black karate uniform. But his ears – his _ears. _They were long and pointed, like elf ears. In fact, his lithe, slender-limbed figure was very elfin-like; graceful and beautiful, and _extremely_ deadly – absolutely lethal. Designed for a proficient, effortless kill. Morgan shuddered surreptitiously, but couldn't look away from his eyes – those magnetic, enchanting eyes.

And he stared right back at her. Her heart constricted terribly in her chest. He would recognise her – he would remember her. He'd let her get away last time, but he wouldn't this time. She was sure of it. She could _feel _it. This man was utterly mirthless. He would kill in cold blood.

But he glanced away dismissively, and she realised that what had felt like a long, torturous minute had, in fact, only been an instant. He – whoever he was – hadn't even glanced down at Max. That was, perhaps, what saved them right then. Their ridiculous, hideous intern uniforms.

"Keep moving," Daniel muttered from behind her, and Morgan's senses kicked back into gear. Trying to force away how shaken she was by the sight of their enemy, she helped Daniel and Emma wheel Max out of the lift and into the corridor. They immediately turned away from the – what were they called again? What had Dr. Shirogane called them? She couldn't remember. But he was bad news – they could all sense it, she realised, and it was instinctive for them to move away from him. As they tried their very hardest not to run with Max, a frightening thought struck Morgan. What if there were more of them? What if he wasn't the only one?

As they wheeled Max further along the corridor, glancing down every turn off in hopes of discovering a miraculous exit somewhere, Morgan couldn't help but look over her shoulder.

And that was her terrible mistake.

He was standing at the door to the elevator, his face turned, his expression hidden. But then he looked up slowly, throwing a casual glance after them, and his eyes locked once more with hers, narrowing with the tiniest, suspicious twitch. Ice cascaded through her body, and she whipped around again, hoping she hadn't just given them away. Her heart thudded in her ears as her brain tried to rationalise what it had just witnessed.

Because it couldn't have happened – the laws of physics simply couldn't allow it – it wasn't possible.

He simply _couldn't _have disappeared _on the spot_.

"Go, go, go!" she urged wildly, feeling that something absolutely terrible was about to happen, and knowing – with a sick, awful sense of foreboding – that she was right.

And they broke into a run.

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**A/N: **No cultural notes this time. Weird. Oh well.

Well, well. Look who's finally made a shockingly unexpected return! Our malicious, silver-eyed Cyniclon friend! Enemy? I like to think he's my friend, so we'll go with frenenemy. XD

Anyway. What does his reappearance symbolise? What dramatic turns of events will he bring with him? Will they be able to escape and save Max? Will the Amy and Brody crew survive, or will they be caught? Who knows? I do! And so will you, if you read on!

Review button's just there. ;)

Until the next update, minna,

**Cherrie xx**


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